


4HW: Chronicles of Los Santos

by Slytherin_Of_The_Sith



Category: Grand Theft Auto V, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, Badass Bayley, Badass Sasha, Bank Robbery, Canon-Typical Violence, Charlotte and Sasha bickering 24/7, Drama & Romance, Everyone Has Issues, Expanded Universe, Explicit Language, F/F, Family Drama, Fluff and Smut, Grand Theft Auto References, Gun Violence, Heist Adventures, I'm Bad At Tagging, Inappropriate Humor, Legal Drama, Los Santos, Marijuana, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Recreational Drug Use, Romantic Fluff, Street Racing, Super badass Charlotte, Tags Contain Spoilers, Tags May Change, Team BAE endgame, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:01:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 51,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22626766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slytherin_Of_The_Sith/pseuds/Slytherin_Of_The_Sith
Summary: Los Santos: The City of Angels...Saint City...had a number of names but it was all the same. Los Santos is a huge cluster of cultures and perspectives. Crawling with two-bit criminals along with really big time actors and musicians. Los Santos is known as the major world center for motion pictures, TV and everything else that's entertainment. Anyone who thought that they were worth being a somebody was welcomed to the city but not everyone was cut out for the fast life that Los Santos offered. Their  dreams were either spoken into a reality or it was just a dream that became a nightmare.Achieving that dream to live the Los Santos life took sacrifice, lots of them. Oftentimes, even a little bit of blood if anyone were to look close enough beneath the surface of many of the elite residents that lived in Vinewood.Not everything was as glamorous as it seemed in The City of Angels.//WWE universe collides with the GTA V univese.// no one asked for this//
Relationships: Sasha Banks/Becky Lynch | Rebecca Knox
Comments: 82
Kudos: 58





	1. The Elite of Los Santos

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything GTA or WWE related. I'm just bored as fuck, so here we are. yet again.

* * *

Los Santos: The City of Angels... _Saint City_...had a number of names but it was all the same. Los Santos is a huge cluster of cultures and perspectives. Crawling with two-bit criminals along with really big time actors and musicians. Los Santos is known as the major world center for motion pictures, TV and everything else that's entertainment. Anyone who thought that they were worth being a somebody was welcomed to the city but not everyone was cut out for the fast life that Los Santos offered. Their dreams were either spoken into a reality or it was just a dream that became a nightmare.

Achieving that dream to live the Los Santos life took sacrifice, lots of them. Oftentimes, even a little bit of blood if anyone were to look close enough beneath the surface of many of the elite residents that lived in Vinewood.

Not everything was as glamorous as it seemed in The City of Angels.

From the seventieth floor, Charlotte Flair was leaning up against the window frame inside of her executive office nursing her imported kombucha tea as she stared out at the skyline of Los Santos. The beauty of it all never failed to take her breath away, but as beautiful as LS was—Charlotte was aware of the dangers that ceaselessly lurked in the shadows. She knew very well how dangerous those streets could be and it didn't matter how deep her pockets were or how clean the sidewalks in her neighborhood were.

Her office was located in the heart of Los Santos inside of The Maze Bank Tower. The building that has defined the Los Santos skyline for generations past and generations to come. It was tall, it was classy and more opulent. Being not structurally sound The Maze Bank Tower was the best in its class.

It had damn well better, Charlotte paid over four million dollars for a five year office contract. Decked with a boardroom, sleeping quarters, and a safe for her highly confidential documents and loose money she kept for a rainy day. Though that last edition cost her a little bit extra, it was worth it when it counted.

Being the CEO of Fiskhein, Inc. A private financial company, Charlotte often found herself dealing with a few of the biggest sharks of the city ranging from movie and TV producers, record labels and a underground Russian crime boss. It paid her bills and Charlotte didn't ask questions, though it wasn't out of fear for her life—she simply did not care.

Charlotte's frown deepened slightly as she checked the time on her customized Rolex. Her sister was late, but then again her sister was never really on time for anything unless it was work outside of this office. It didn’t bother Charlotte as much as it used to in the past anymore—now she was just more worried than she was annoyed. The CEO carefully set her tea mug on a coaster next to her computer and walked out of her office towards the lobby where her assistant was dutifully typing reports and filtering through emails.

Naomi looked up and smiled at her boss, she was so in tune with her that she felt Charlotte’s presence coming towards her before she even heard those three thousand dollar heels on the wood floor. But then again, Naomi was probably the highest paid assistant in the entire Maze Tower...and the city too, so she took her job very seriously. The pay was too good not to but Naomi has been working with Charlotte for three years, she knew the woman’s tics and habits better than most—and that uncanny knowledge extended to her sister as well.

“She hasn’t called yet.”

Charlotte sighed, closing her mouth—not surprised that Naomi knew what was on her mind before she could even ask.

“And there hasn’t been anything on the news, I’m sure that she is fine. So stop worrying so much.”

Charlotte worried her bottom lip, “Yes, I guess that’s easy for you to say, isn’t it? You didn’t have to grow up with her and watch her do stupid stuff that resulted with bruised or broken bones. And then get blamed for not watching her close enough.”

Naomi chuckled and went back to her work, leaving her boss to her thoughts because she's heard it all before. Eventually Charlotte went back into her office to bury herself in paperwork because it wasn’t going to do itself—she’d go hunt her sister down when she was finished. Charlotte had a good idea of where that little troll was but she’d deal with that later.

_A few hours later...Knock knock…_

Charlotte startled slightly, her body tensing for a fight before she quickly remembered where she was and looked up. Naomi was standing in the doorway of her office holding up a brown paper bag but from the smell alone and the heavy grease stains Charlotte knew that Naomi had brought in what Charlotte considered her dirty little secret.

That brown paper bag contained a loaded greasy all American bacon cheeseburger with avocado with extra fries on the side. Charlotte prided herself on her diet and her figure and she wouldn't dare with fast food or anything that could destroy what she's worked so hard to physically achieve but this was an exception above all else.

“Oh, you’re a godsend.” Charlotte practically moaned as she grabbed for the bag like a kid in a candy store.

Naomi shook her head because she was mildly disturbed by the amount of fat her boss was about to consume but with the stress of the upcoming board meetings for the week and Charlotte’s sister not bothering to return any phone calls or texts to let someone know that she was alive. Naomi figured it was time to bring in the big guns to get her boss to relax, even if it were just for a moment.

“I’m going to call it an early day, Naomi.” Charlotte sighed as she stuffed another fry into her mouth, in food heaven, “I’ll take the rest of this with me and finish at home.”

“Yes ma’am, I’ll hold it down here and—”

“Absolutely not,” Charlotte glared playfully at Naomi, “You go ahead and go home to Jimmy, I'll lock up the office today. Enjoy your weekend.”

Naomi nodded, not even thinking about arguing because she didn’t have to be told twice to go home—she knew that Charlotte wouldn't dock her hours either, “Thank you, Charlotte. And tell your 'missing' sister I said hey”

Charlotte rolled her eyes, mumbling under her breath “I’ll be telling her more than that.”

* * *

_**30 minutes later in La Puerta, Los Santos...** _

Charlotte parked outside of the building that her sister lived in just off the side of the freeway and sat there for a moment longer to finish her fries and an email that was partially finished. Even with her radio playing music louder than she normally kept it in her car, Charlotte could still hear the rush of cars and trucks going back and forth. She had no idea how her little sister could sleep or focus on anything with all of that background noise—but given what she liked to do on her spare time, which was all of the time, Charlotte wasn't surprised that this was like white noise for her sister.

Hell, she lived in a garage. But that was always her sisters thing, ever since they were kids—Charlotte had a mind for numbers and strategy and her sister preferred something far more complex. When they were kids, she was always taking apart things and building bikes from junkyard parts—and often left Charlotte to do her math homework. Not that Charlotte minded, more practice for her.

Growing up in a town like Bullworth, being tough was a given or an ass beating was guaranteed everyday no matter how rich of a family anyone came from. They grew up close, watching each others back even though they bickered at home more than their parents did. It was really no surprise that they moved to the same city and started a business together—growing up depending on one another to not let the other fall became their routine.

Charlotte managed her sister's money because if she didn't she knew that she would do nothing but buy muscle and exotic cars so that she could tinker with them and race them on the streets of Los Santos. But Charlotte knew that without her sisters dangerous love for street racing...Fiskhein would not have existed. Charlotte's dream would've become a Los Santos nightmare.

Her sister gave her all of her earnings so that Charlotte could achieve her dream and make their parents proud of her—or at least try to. Because they pressure was always on Charlotte because she was the oldest. It was always on her to be the responsible one, the non-risk taker, the one to take care of their youngest child. They had no idea that it was their youngest taking care of her for the longest time when they moved to Los Santos.

The moment Fiskhein took off, Charlotte's first big investment was buy property. Charlotte nearly dropped three million for red bricked warehouse in a blue collar neighborhood and put it in her sister's name so she could fill it with unregistered muscle and super cars. If that doesn't count as gentrification then nothing does.

Charlotte spent a few more minutes finishing up her emails and fries before she finally got out of her car and approached the single steel door on the side of the building. To anyone looking, Charlotte stuck out like a sore thumb. Charlotte wasn't worried though—most of the people that lingered around were homeless or dope heads. And if there happened to be an issue to arise...well, in a city like LS, everyone was packing some sort of heat.

Charlotte lifted the lid of the keypad that was next to the door and typed in the code that deactivated all six deadlocks so she could open the door. One could never be too safe, right?

The moment Charlotte walked inside she could hear loud music playing through the speakers hooked up all around the building up in the rafters (she still has no Earthly idea how her sister managed to get them up that high). The smell of burned rubber and faint traces of carbon monoxide. It smelled like any typical garage with gas and oil stains on the floor. But Charlotte had to admit—her sister ran a tight ship when it came to her vehicles and their maintenance. But she had damn well better...she spent enough money on these damn cars.

Charlotte strolled down the isle of cars that were neatly parked. On one side their were five muscle cars, all custom, and on the other side of the garage there were five super cars from Ferrari, Maserati and she even had a formula race car. Charlotte didn't even know why but she didn't bother to think too much of it, but she knew that they had entirely way too much money on their hands.

Charlotte continued her journey through the warehouse garage until she reached the stairs the led up to the loft living area and she could hear the music even more from up there but she could also hear voices—particularly two men laughing and a lot of racket. Curious, and a little fearful of what the hell she was about to walk into, Charlotte ventured up the stairs until she reached the second floor and stopped in her tracks, eyes wide.

_Should have known she'd ditch me for these two clowns..._

Matt Riddle and Mojo Rawley were her little sisters two best friends and street racing buddies. Mojo followed them from Bullworth and Matt was originally from the city of LS, got them both into the racing scene and the rest was history. They were all peas in a pod which is why Charlotte was no surprised to find them like this.

Matt was sitting on the sofa smoking a bowl of the dankest weed Charlotte has ever smelled in her life while her little sister and Mojo were playing some football game on the TV. And apparently something big happened because they both started yelling excitedly and threw their controllers aside and Charlotte couldn't stop the smile on her face as they did their little signature handshake and dance.

“WHO'S THE MAN?!”

“You are!”

“Oh yeah, bro. Killed that shit.” Matt chuckled as he took another hit, and practically exhaling his soul. With the way he was smoking in the living room—Charlotte was positive that she'd be feeling the effects later on.

“That's right bro! I don't get hyped, _I AM THE HYPE! What's my name?!”_ Mojo yelled as he started running in place with a dead serious look on his face making Charlotte roll her eyes at their antics.

“Dean!” her sister laughed as she began slapping Mojo's chest to 'hype' him up even more, _they were definitely high._

“What?!”

“Mojo!” _slap._

“What?!”

“Rawley!” _slap._

“ _What?!”_

“Mr. Hype!” _slap slap!_

“WOO!”

“WOO!”

“ ** _Ahem.”_**

Almost immediately, everyone and everything seemed to stop and turn to Charlotte who was leaning against the door frame with a raised eyebrow. Matt smiled crookedly at her and hit pause on his phone and the music immediately stopped. Charlotte's ears were ringing just a little bit but nothing more than it just being uncomfortable.

“Hey bra, how's it hangin'?”

Charlotte rolled her eyes, and pointed at her little sister who now had the audacity to look sheepish, “You. Wanna join me downstairs for a little talk, please?”

Mojo patted his bestie on the back for encouragement as he sat back down to finish their game and catch his breath, because running in place with a room full of smoke while screaming wasn't the best idea.

Charlotte stepped aside to let her sister through and upon closer inspection she saw that she dyed her hair again. It was still purple but there were hints of blue in it,and while Charlotte was against her sister having colored hair given her profession—if her sister ever got caught street racing or doing whatever it was that she did when she wasn't fixing up cars or in Charlotte's direct line of sight. Her hair would be her ultimate downfall, anyone would be able to point her out of the crowd.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, her sister stopped and turned around with a puppy dog pout in place that Charlotte had grown _somewhat_ immune to as they grew older. Any other time, Charlotte would have caved and hugged her tightly—but not this time. Charlotte had been genuinely worried about this idiot's safety and deep down inside she was pissed off over being ignored all day for Tweedledee and Tweedledum.

Before she could even utter a word, Charlotte held up a hand with the elegance that even a Queen could respect and a glare so cold that the broken glacier in Antarctica could not compare.

“ _Sasha.”_

* * *


	2. Rough Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own anything GTA or WWE related.

* * *

Becky startled awake from her deep sleep but it wasn't from her alarm clock that she had set on her both her nightstand clock or her cellphone—hell it wasn't even the persistent blaring horns outside of shitty hotel building. _It was the damn heat!_ She's lived in this building for nearly a year to know when the AC unit in her window gave out again and she'd have to make time in her busy schedule to fix the damn thing.

Between her working two jobs, in the same damn building at that, and looking for a third job to not only cover the cost of her wildly expensive rent but to have just a little bit of groceries in her cramped studio apartment so she could stop eating out all the time at fast food joints and actually start to save her money. With a loud groan, Becky rolled over with a grimace. She figured the AC unit was out for a while because she was sweating through her night shirt and strands of her fiery red hair was sticking to her cheeks and forehead.

Becky stared up at her ceiling, looking at all of the water stains that were there. _Fuck._ Becky wanted to get a move on, hell she knew that she needed to before she was late for her first job at the supermarket—her manager warning her that the next time she showed up later, she was fired. But despite that threat she just couldn't get herself to move.

This was not how Becky envisioned her life when she moved to Los Santos, _not at all_. She didn't have an exact idea of her new life in the first place when she came to this city straight out of Liberty City—but it certainly wasn't this. Living in a dump paying twice more than it was really worth for a studio apartment with crappy neighbors on either side of her apartment. A leaky roof when it rained really badly, and a bad AC unit that the landlord swore up and down that he'd replace but still hasn't. Becky put in the order for seven months ago. She'd been fixing the stupid thing on her own but it was tiring and she'd rather just have a new one.

Back when Becky lived with her parents they didn't have these sort of problems but then again, they were never in one place to even know what having a problem was. Her dad was an army jock, always moving around the states or overseas to some base because 'they' told him too. She and her mom had a roof over their heads always, and fat bellies...but those blessings always came with a price. And the moment they were back in Liberty City and she was finally able to graduate—Becky was gone. She couldn't take her parents toxic behavior anymore. She stole all the loose cash from her dad's wallet when he and her mom were passed out in their bedroom and took the first bus out of the city.

It took Becky a long time to break the habit of moving from city to city and town to town—it was exhausting and expensive. She landed in Los Santos, hoping to find her dreams whatever they may be and found herself in an incubus.

_Beepbeep...beepbeep...beepbeep..._

Becky reached over and turned off the alarm on her phone before she finally dragged her carcass out of her bed.

* * *

“You're late, Lynch.”

Becky rolled her eyes as she opened her employee locker so she could get her apron and cap, “I'm on time, Chris. I'm scheduled for noon, and I'm here at noon.”

“You got here five minutes past.” Becky turned around and saw her manager standing there smugly with his arms crossed. Oh how badly she wanted to punt him through a wall—it was always the short guys who were the assholes in this city. “You remember our talk the last time you were late, don't you?”

Becky's eyes bugged out of her head, staring at the man in disbelief, “You can't be fuckin' serious!? For five minutes man?!”

“I'm really sorry Lynch, I am. But policy is policy. Good luck on your future endeavors.” Chris shrugged, holding up his hands as he began to walk backwards towards the door, not sounding very sorry at all.

Hell, if Becky didn't know better she would have thought that he personally sabotaged her bus running a little behind schedule today. But Chris was so petty to everyone that worked directly beneath him, Becky's theory of him being spiteful enough to somehow pull off delaying her bus ride wasn't too far fetched.

Becky scoffed, and snatched her backpack out of her locker not caring that she nearly took the locker door of it's rusty hinges. She'd just lost both of her jobs at the same time—she wondered if that was a record or something. Guess that didn't matter anymore, Becky just hoped that the third job she interviewed for panned out now. More than ever.

A sympathetic looking Chris stopped Becky's exit and he sighed heavily, “Listen Lynch, I hate to see you go and I'll be willing to give you another shot here, okay?”

...“You serious?”

“Yeah, just...” he looked around briefly, making sure that no one else was around and lowered his voice so that only Becky could hear him as he reached out to place a rough hand on the small of Becky's back, “My place tonight and— _oof!_ ”

Before either of them could blink, Chris was on the dirty floor holding his gushing nose with wide eyes and Becky shook out her hand once as she walked out of the room. _Fuck this place._ But damn did that feel good, she'd been wanting to do that for a long time now.

It didn't take long for the swagger in Becky's step to outstay its welcome. Sure it felt great to punch her sleazebag of a boss in the face when he came onto her _after_ he fired her but as Becky sat at the bus stop, looking slightly to the left at the LS skyline where all the rich and famous live and 'worked'. The thought of her bills began creeping to the forefront of her mind. Plus her groceries were going to be more expensive now because she didn't have a discount to fall back on. _Son of a ugh!_

“Hey, Red! Got a dollar on ya?”

“Piss off.” Becky didn't spare the homeless man another glance, not an ounce of guilt on her subconscious. This was an everyday thing while waiting at the bus stop in the seedy parts of LS, everyone wanted something and no one wanted to give back.

“Fuckin' cunt.” he mumbled but thankfully that was all and he moved on, taking his stench with him. Becky was relieved when another bus rider came and sat with her on the bench, she recognized her but they weren't exactly friends but they were friendly.

Carmella spat out her gum on the sidewalk without a care and popped in a new one before smiling over at Becky, “Hey, Becky. You're off early today, another morning shift or what?”

“Got fired.” Becky sighed heavily, she may as well get used to saying that instead of letting her pride ignore the sting of her situation. Denial never got her anywhere.

“Ah shit. Both jobs in one go huh?”

Becky nearly rolled her eyes, _Captain obvious everybody!_ “Yeah, hopefully I landed this job at the call center. It should be enough to get me by, y'know?”

Carmella shrugged, pulling out her compacter so she could touch up on her lipstick, “Okay, yeah, I guess. But what if it doesn't work out? Then what?”

Becky was hoping to avoid that question for another twenty-four hours after a long nap back at home in her hot ass studio apartment... _fuck I still gotta fix the AC unit. Fuck fuck fuck._ “I dunno, guess I could rob a bank or somethin'.”

Carmella snorted but her eyes remained focused on her task, “Girl, don't play...shit like that is real in LS and snitches are _everywhere_. That's how Corey ended up in jail for six months. They didn't have proof but he has history so,” Carmella trailed off with a nonchalant shrug, and finished up her make-up when their bus turned the corner down the street. “But seriously...what are you good at?”

“My dad taught me all about guns and survival, but that's about all.” Becky scoffed, shaking her head mostly at herself because she was unsure of why she even told Carmella that piece of information about herself. They weren't friends, no, but Becky wasn't too keen on revealing too much of her life with a lot of people—if anyone at all. She didn't do friends...other human beings couldn't be trusted, nor should they be.

Carmella gave Becky a look, curious but calculating. Coming to a quick decision, Carmella quickly pulled out her phone and handed it over to Becky, “Put your number in,” Carmella explained as they got up from the bench when their bus got closer, “I'm betting this this is the last time we'll ever see each other on this route, so put your number in so we can call each other, in case you ever need something. And vice versa.”

Becky was still hesitant but she didn't see the harm in it, they'd never get that far anyway.

* * *

By the time Becky got back to her crappy little apartment on the outskirts of the city she was bone tired and stressed beyond hell. Half way through the trip, she'd gotten an email from that promising third job—only to be told that they'd gone with another fuckin' candidate. Of course Becky was welcomed to apply for other positions within their company but Becky didn't want to do any of that shit. She just wanted to go home and drink the rest of that cheap tequila she bought from some corner store and die.

Finding work in LS was hard, finding work in LS without a car was even worse. The bus had dropped Becky off a couple of blocks from her apartment because it was the closest stop that she was going to get but the polluted air would do her some good. Help her think a little clearly, and get her blood pumping. Becky didn't really mind the walk, she often saw the same faces depending on the time of day it was.

Becky stopped at the mailbox to pick up all of her mail that were no doubt bills looming in the horizon printed in smug little red letters. _Ugh._ As she was heading further into the complex towards her building unit through the parking lot, Becky noticed something unusual and highly expensive. There was a stunningly blue Ferrari 812 parked beautifully next to a candy red custom Corvette stingray.

Becky knew that the corvette belonged to one of her neighbors, Bianca (she only knew her name because she had to return her mail once). She had no idea who in their right mind would drive a car like _that_ and live in a dump like this but she supposed that Bianca made enough money to have one or the other but not both. So she probably chose an expensive ride over an expensive half-way decent place to stay. Becky figured that it was none of her business though. To each their own.

But that Ferrari? That Ferrari Becky had never seen before and she was practically salivating over it. She hadn't realized that her pace had slowed considerably while her gaze was focused on the exotic car. That shade of blue was light and it was bold but those dark tinted windows and black rims complimented it well.

When Becky reached her floor via stairs because the elevator was broken, of course, she spotted Bianca standing in front of her door with another woman with purple hair that flowed down her back and if Becky looked hard enough (which she most certainly did) she could see streaks of blue in her hair as well. She was shorter than Bianca, even while wearing heels. The woman looked out of place with her leather pants and jacket—it was a simple outfit but Becky could smell the money on her. Putting the dots together, Becky knew that the Ferrari belonged to her.

Becky uncharacteristically took her sweet time unlocking her apartment door, she was normally the last person to get involved in someone else's business because that led to questions. Questions she had no intentions of ever answering but curiosity killed the cat—or however that saying fuckin' went.

Becky couldn't hear much of what they were saying but Bianca handed the mysterious woman a backpack that had a bit of weight on it and opened her apartment door, still chewing obnoxiously on her gum. Becky quickly opened her apartment door as the other woman turned to leave and had her door closed before she could be caught being nosy.

That didn't stop Becky from going over to the only window that looked down into the parking lot, and peering down through the blinds over her broken AC unit to watching the purple haired woman walk confidently to the blue Ferrari and peel away without a car in the world.

It made Becky envious—it was obvious that whatever she just witnessed was illegal, probably something to do with all of the street racing that's been in the news lately as LSPD tried to crack down on the illegal activities. It pissed Becky off how people who lived outside of the law had shit so easy and made for them while people like her worked their asses off—just to get shitted on by assholes more miserable than her.

Becky remained by the window for a few moments longer before she decided that she'd deal with her problems later. There was a nice amount of tequila waiting for her. She was going to enjoy this last moment of serenity and the false sense of security before reality caught up to her. _Salute, bitches._

* * *

When Becky woke up the next morning, she was butt ass naked because it got hot last night and she had to crack open a window or two because wasn't in the mood to actually tinker with the AC unit. She also had a killer headache along with a sore throat because that's what happened after drinking tequila on an empty stomach while stressed.

Becky laid there for several more moments with the hopes that her queasy stomach would stop trying to turn itself inside out. Eventually Becky was able to roll over towards the edge of her bed and was actually able to get to her feet to stumble her way into her bathroom so she could sit on the toilet in hopes of a second chance if she swore off of tequila and alcohol for the rest of her life.

Eventually Becky showered and put on some decent clothes for the day even if she didn't have a damn thing to do because she didn't have a job and she didn't exactly have any friends. Becky sure as hell wasn't going to call Carmella to see if she wanted to hang out—that was a last resort sort of thing. Maybe when Becky was desperate for company. _Maybe._

Bored out of her skull after just ten minutes of sitting on her ratty old leather sofa that she'd gotten with the apartment—go figure. There wasn't anything on TV other than sexist commercials promoting sexist reality shows that young women of Los Santos hoped to become rich and famous by shaking their asses all over the camera for creepy and miserable two-faced judges. Becky was sick of it and turned off the TV and grabbed her backpack, she didn't really have a destination in mind but she figured that getting fresh air would do her more favors than sitting inside all day losing her mind.

* * *

Becky didn't normally take it upon herself to speak to people unless they spoke to her first but when Becky saw Bianca exiting her Corvette Stingray, Becky couldn't help but to just stop and stare. That machine was a work of beauty, and Becky was envious. Not to the point that it made her angry, but it just made her sad. Why couldn't she just be that lucky or talented? She often found herself people watching and playing a game of making up stories for them. Wondering where they laid their heads at night, what they spent eight to ten hours a day doing to sit in their fancy cars. Thinking about what tragedies these people had to go through to find the motivation to push through.

Becky hadn't realized how hard she was staring until Bianca was standing directly in front of her and popping her gum loudly. “You gonna just stand there or are you gonna move, carrot top?”

“What?”

“Jesus Chr—Get the fuck out of the way!” Bianca snapped, shoving Becky aside who didn't know that she was blocking the doorway into their building and her face was flush from mild embarrassment—plus the tequila was still running through her system and had yet to make it's graceful exit. Becky wanted to be pissed about Bianca putting her hands on her but she didn't want to cause a fight with the other woman. Bianca looked like she could flip over her own damn car if she was mad enough.

“Hey, mind if I asked ya a question?”

Bianca, unexpectedly, stopped and turned back around to look at Becky with a raised eyebrow, mouth still chomping away at the pink gum and blowing bubbles, “What?”

“What the hell do ya do for a livin' to drive a car like that but live here?”

“Trust me, carrot top, that ain't the sort of answer you're lookin' for. Not around here.” Bianca smirked, and _now_ Becky was feeling her blood starting to boil. She didn't like the condescending tone that Bianca was using and how smug that smirk was—being talked down to was always one of Becky's biggest pet peeves, “Listen, mind ya business, aight? Don't think I didn't notice you snoopin' around yesterday.”

Becky flinched slightly at the call out, she didn't realize that Bianca noticed—did that mean that the other woman did as well? _Crap._ “I wasn't eavesdroppin' if that's what you're implying. I was just curious.”

“Well go be curious somewhere else, honey.” Bianca rolled her eyes and sighed heavily, “Look, you work at the grocery store on the corner of strawberry, right?”

“ _Did.”_ Becky laughed humorless while combing her fingers through her messy red hair.

“Whateva, I don't care, your lil' nine to five minimum wage job? Stick to it, boo.”

Becky laughed humorlessly, rolling eyes, “Piss off, I meant no harm. Share the wealth and all that jazz is just bullshit anyway, yeah?”

Bianca scoffed at Becky's retreating back shaking her head, seemingly talking to herself but Becky didn't bother turning around, no longer in the mood to be insulted but Bianca calling after her had Becky stopping in her tracks despite her better judgment.

“You ain't a narc, are you?”

“A...what? A narc?”

“A sleazeball cop. A snitch.” Becky just shook her head, hell if she could even make _that_ kind of money—she'd be living better than this, and probably have a car. Bianca popped another bubble, “You wanna see how _we_ live, fine. Meet me back here tonight at ten, and I'll show you. Guaranteed you won't be askin' again.”

Bianca slammed the building door shut behind her before Becky could even respond. Becky stood there still as a statue, her pulse raising because just what in the hell did she just get herself into?!

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are my own. Thank you!
> 
> -Sith


	3. Sacrifices Pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own anything WWE, GTA-Rockstar related. Thanks!

* * *

_**On the city limits of Los Santos...** _

Tonight was going to be a relaxing night for Sasha. There were going to be a few races tonight that were going to be happening downtown Los Santos, being hosted by Mojo at some parking garage he managed to reserve. Meaning he paid the security guards a hefty sum to look the other way—it was a routine thing. Sasha didn't usually participate in petty pink slip races or for anything under ten grand—it was simply beneath her. Besides, everyone in Los Santos who had any sense knew that she was the Queen of Speed. When it came to racing, Sasha was the blueprint that everyone wanted to become but those untalented swines could never be the heir to the throne that she's created over the years.

They were fools striving to have what Sasha had, hell no one knew what Sasha truly had unless she wanted them to. They believed that everything Sasha had was from years of her burning rubber on the asphalt and running from the police. Never in a hundred years would they believe one of the most wanted people in LS owned a multi-million business with her older sister. It was what Sasha wanted and how she was going to let it remain for as long as possible.

Currently, Sasha was leaning up against the side of her snow white Dodge Challenger Demon simply waiting beneath an overpass that was leaving LS and scrolling on Twitter. But Sasha was hyper aware of her surroundings, she knew what lurked beneath these overpasses and the weight of her glock sitting on her lower back beneath her leather jacket was a constant reminder that she wasn't without back-up. Charlotte would probably kill her for showing up alone but she didn't have to know the details of this meeting.

Sasha checked the time and frowned, _of course this bitch is late._ If was a few more minutes before Sasha heard them just as an all black Cadillac slowly creeped around one of the pillars until they were less than a hundred feet away from her position. Sasha didn't move an inch and continued to look unbothered. She watched as a bodyguard exited the SUV first and looked around momentarily before flexing in his sleek Armani suit and stepping aside to let the most irritating woman in Los Santos out of the vehicle.

Lana was the wife of the Russian crime Lord Rusev, Charlotte and Sasha have only met Rusev a handful of times but it was Lana that was always the mouthpiece and often quite annoying. Charlotte wanted to shoot her but neither sister were willing to take on that sort of heat in their own backyard so Sasha handled the meetings with Lana now—to avoid any unnecessarily tragedies and starting a war.

Lana smiled at Sasha but there was nothing genuine about it. Lana was the sort of woman that allowed her wealth to speak for her, as she had the right to, but looking her down her nose at everyone as she were above everything is what Sasha had an issue with. This woman believed that everything around her was free, that the world owed her something. Adding to that, Lana believed that Sasha and her sister were also beneath them—and should not be their partners but employees. Well... _servants..._ as Lana worded it oh so gracefully once upon a time.

Despite them both putting in lengthy efforts to keep her idiot husband out of prison. Or worse: the bottom of the pacific. Needless to say, Sasha hoped that she lived long enough to see Lana and Rusev get what was coming to them.

“Every single time, you never fail to not only beat me here,” Lana stopped a few feet away from Sasha and her car, and removed her designer sunglasses revealing those devilish hazel eyes, “But you always such beautiful vehicles. And they're always so _clean_! I can never seem to keep my vehicles clean.”

_And your voice never fails to get on my damn nerves, bitch._ Sasha shrugged, returning Lana's smile with a smaller one of her own, “Cars represent their owners. Naturally, anything I drive is always clean and in style.”

Lana chuckled, eyebrow raising as she ran the tip of her finger along the hood of Sasha's car making her skin crawl with mild irritation as Sasha's hardened gaze followed Lana's finger behind her dark tinted aviators. “Then I feel that it is safe to presume that this one is just as loud despite it's lack of objectionable color?”

“And dangerous.”

Lana's smug smile faltered slightly at the corners but Sasha had to admit...the bitch had a solid poker face, but after months of dealing with her—she knew her tales, and it was all too easy for Sasha to get underneath Lana's skin. Sasha remained in her position leaning up against her car even though her arm as starting to fall asleep—she didn't want to give Lana the semblance of respect just yet. Lana reached inside of her overly sized Prada bag and tossed a manila folder on the hood of Sasha's car, and Sasha finally moved. Casually reaching out to catch the hefty folder before it slid off the hood and onto the ground.

“It's heavier than last time.”

Lana rolled her eyes, shaking her head but Sasha could tell that it wasn't towards her— _this time,_ not that she actually cared either way, “Rusev and I had to clean up a mess in Liberty City. There's extra work in there...blood money that we need cleaned and cycled.”

“Anything else?” Sasha tossed the folder onto the passenger's seat through the open driver's side window.

“Rusev and I will be going home until the foreseeable future, unfortunately. We will not be returning anytime soon, continue your methods with our finances until instructed otherwise. Do you realize just how many people are jealous of my Rusev and I? Honestly, it's baffling. I mean! Just last week, at our private airport there were people there to kill us! Can you believe that? My Rusev and I do so much for these peasants and this is the gratitude we get back. _Pathetic!_ ”

Sasha titled her head to the side curiously. She'd heard about the turf wars that'd been going down on the East Coast but she didn't care too much to actually give that gossip a second glance, maybe she'd look more into it later on now. “I didn't ask for your problems, I'm surprised you know what baffling meant. I asked if there was anything else that you needed. Clearly that's a fat 'no', so I gotta go. People to see, places that I'd literally rather be.”

“Oh, to be so cocky and naive,” Lana scoffed, sneering at Sasha outright now—no longer trying to hide behind a surgically constructed smile, “One day, Sasha, your mouth will get you into more trouble than you're worth.”

Still smirking, Sasha opened her car door and slipped into the drivers seat not even bothering to give the other woman a verbal response. Silence and action spoke louder than words ever could and that was a lesson that Sasha learned back in Bullworth at a very young and tender age. The last time someone told her that her mouth would put her six feet underground...well, that conversation didn't end so well for them.

Sasha threw her Challenger into reverse and floored it before whip it around, throwing it into first and getting the hell out of there. She only took one glance in her rear-view mirror to confirm that Lana was still standing there, watching her leave. Deep down in her soul, Sasha knew that she and Charlotte would have to sever that partnership sooner than later. Sasha broke into LS traffic, earning her more than a few middle fingers and blaring horns.

Once she was in the clear, Sasha reached behind her to pull the glock from her waist and set it on top of the folder in the passengers seat and quickly reached beneath her shirt to loosen the straps of her light body armor beneath her t-shirt. Dealing with Russian's, no one could ever be too paranoid.

* * *

“How'd it go?” Charlotte didn't have to look up to know who the hell just barged into her office as if they owned the place because technically, they owned half of the Fiskhein business. That, and Naomi would have never let anyone past her without informing Charlotte of the unscheduled intrusion first.

Sasha huffed and set a rather thick manila folder right next to Charlotte's open laptop on top of a few spreadsheets that she was working on, and quite rudely pushed aside some of her other papers so that she could sit on her desk. Charlotte was annoyed but she wasn't so annoyed to start a fuss over it. She was used to her sister's irritating ticks.

“According to Botox barbie, Rusev started something bad on the East coast and they're running home to Russia or where ever the hell they're from.”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow as she picked up the folder and rocked back in her chair, then looked up at Sasha, “Are there any changes that Rusev asked for specifically?”

“If he did, she didn't say. So I'd be extra thorough reading through that.” Sasha shrugged, picking up a spreadsheet just to be nosy. “We gotta drop them soon. Bad for business.”

“I know,” Charlotte mumbled, eyes skimming over the financial records provided from the Russian's and Charlotte knew that she'd be pulling an all nighter before the week was over. “Speaking of business, we might have a job lining up soon.”`

Sasha visibly perked up before she corrected herself, not wanting to seem too eager, but it's been a while since they've gotten their hands dirty outside of their usual daily activities _._ “Personal or business?”

“Personal.” Charlotte answered grimly, setting aside the Russian dossier for the time being and leaned forward to type something on her laptop then turned the device so that Sasha could see as well. When Sasha's wide eyes looked at her, Charlotte nodded slowly. “We fell below our three million mark last week. If we're going to keep this office, Sasha, and this lifestyle—things have to change.”

Sasha narrowed her eyes, because that didn't sound good at all, “Like what?”

“We share this account and—”

“Hey, hey, no! No, _you're_ the one who wanted to share a stupid bank account so whatever happened is not my fault!”

“Except that it _is_ , Sasha!” Charlotte shot back, pulling up their shared bank statements that she downloaded so she could show her sister the edits that she made—which literally consisted of Charlotte highlighting Sasha's extensive spending habits, “You need to slow down on the spending if you're not bringing in any money.”

Sasha scoffed, sliding off of Charlotte's desk and the blonde was gearing up for a fight that she knew was coming. She knew her sister better than she knew her damn self, which is why Charlotte informed Naomi to hold all of her calls the moment Sasha arrived.

“Are you serious right now? Have you not been watching the news! LSPD is all over our asses before races can even start. Making money is _hard_ right now, Charlotte.”

“So how about you actually come to work then, help me here until things cool down! Keep your end of the bargain, Sasha! You never answer my calls or any of my texts, you have mom and dad worried fucking sick over you and they blame me for everything that you do! Sasha!”

“Oh boo hoo-hoo.”

Charlotte really, _really_ wanted to throttle her sister but she forced herself to calm down before she actually did it. “We had a total of ten million dollars, Sasha. I spent four million for this office to extend the contract another five years. What happened with the six million that was left? It's bad enough that you're buying super cars and taking all these shopping trips downtown. But what the fuck did you _do_ with the three point one million that you withdrew two days ago!?”

“I purchased a cargo plane that was on sale and stashed it at the airstrip in Sandy Shores that _you_ bought!”

Charlotte made a sound that was full of rage and disbelief, “A...what? Oh my fucking god! Sasha, for what?! You're spending money just to spend it, without my permission at that and that is _not_ okay!”

Sasha blinked slowly at her sister, “In my defense, that's not just your money...it's _my_ money too! And if you'd get off your high freakin' horse living this lavish LS lifestyle, you'd know shit!”

Charlotte sprang out of her chair, towering over Sasha who was still perched on her desk. Charlotte knocked her chair over but both women ignored the racket it made against the bookshelf that was behind Charlotte's desk. “What is your deal?!”

“What's _my_ deal?” Sasha scoffed, eyebrows raising as she cut her eyes at her sister.

“ _Yes._ This shit that you're pulling is unacceptable and immature. As your big sister, and the smartest child,I have every right—”

“Oh here we go,” Sasha laughed, sliding off of the desk so that she and her sister were standing toe to toe despite their height difference, but Sasha knew that if they came to blows—Charlotte had the advantage already because Sasha was now trapped between her and the desk. “I have better things to do than sit here and listen to you yell at me!”

“You have no idea of the sacrifices I've made for you, Sasha. _No idea!”_

“Are you—okay, ha, I'm leaving.”

Charlotte watched her sister move back around the desk and towards the exit, but Sasha stopped when she called out to her softly, but didn't turn around, “I'm cutting you off until we get back what we lost.”

Sasha scoffed and stormed out of her sisters office, slamming the door shut so hard she heard something fall and break. _Good._

“See you later, Sasha.” Naomi called out without looking up from the spreadsheet that she was doing, not even offended when all she got in return was a grunt followed by a half-ass 'goodbye'. Sasha didn't even bother with the elevator and instead took the stairs, needing to blow off some steam before getting behind the wheel.

* * *

_**Later that evening...Vespucci Beach...** _

Sasha was an hour and thirty minutes late to the races, but it wasn't as if she were going to be participating anyway but her being present made an impact whether she was tearing up the asphalt and embarrassing wannabe hard asses or not. Sasha just liked to be fashionably late and thankfully Mojo understood that, so he wasn't too put out when the familiar Ferrari 812 slowly crept onto the scene, parting the crowd of spectators like the red sea. During the day, Sasha's Ferrari 812 was gorgeous—loud but harmless. But at night? It was a monster. Loud, dangerous and untouchable.

Sasha pulled into her designated parking spot between Bianca's corvette and Mojo's all red Hummer. The area was less crowded, sectioned off from the groupies and lower class racers.

As she exited her vehicle, Sasha spotted Matt hanging out by the DJ booth smoking with some people she recognized but didn't actively socialize herself with. It seemed that the scene was good tonight, but of course it was—Mojo was hosting it. Aside from the amount of weed being smoked all around the event, the smell of oil, gasoline and burnt rubber filled the air. Sasha was in her element now.

“Was thinkin' you wasn't gonna show up, girl.”

Sasha turned around, spotting Bianca coming towards her with a redhead trailing behind her slowly with wide eyes full of awe and caution. She looked mildly familiar to Sasha but she didn't care enough to think too hard on where she's seen the redhead and why.

“Almost.” Sasha smirked, though it didn't reach her eyes not that Bianca would know that because Sasha still had on her sunglasses despite it being dark out now. Sasha's argument with her sister earlier today still had her a bit on edge, and all Sasha wanted to do was go home and be alone. But she promised Mojo she'd be here tonight. She wasn't going to stay very long, Sasha just wanted to make a statement before she bowed out early.

“Did I miss anything?”

“Nope.” Bianca popped in another piece of pink gum, immediately blowing a bubble, “Drag races and some circuits. Some white boy named Murphy is whoopin' ass tonight though.”

Sasha raised an eyebrow, “He that good huh?” _hmm,_ maybe she would put her 812 on the road tonight—just to make sure no one forgot who ran shit around here in LS.

“He's alright,” Bianca just shrugged, rolling her eyes as she flipped her braid over her shoulder, “Not much of a race when everyone else's shit keep breakin' down. Just straight raggedy.”

“Interesting. I might have to see this Murphy for myself before I leave. Who's that?”

Bianca looked over her shoulder at who Sasha was gesturing to and shrugged again, not bothering to give the redhead a second glance, “Oh, that's just Becky.”

… “Okay...who the fuck is _just Becky?”_

“Hey, I'm standing right here, lass—”

“Hold up—”

Sasha smirked, moving past Bianca cutting off whatever pop off rant her friend was about to go into and practically forced Becky to take a step back, and held up a twenty dollar bill out of nowhere, “I'm thirsty, do you mind going to the bar and getting me a beer. _Please.”_

Becky looked between Sasha and the money she held up, attempting to look past the shades but they were too dark and she could tell that whatever was about to happen next she didn't want to be present for anyway. The sound of the DJ shouting _go_ over the speakers along with engines and custom exhausts had Becky taking the money with an eye roll and walking towards the bar. She might as well enjoy the race because she sure as hell was going to take her time. And she keeping the change.

The moment Becky was out of earshot, Sasha whirled around on Bianca who was now leaning up against her corvette without a care in the world with her arms crossed, “Becky, huh?”

“Bitch please,” Bianca laughed sarcastically, rolling her eyes, “She's just my nosy broke ass neighbor thinkin' she can cut it in this life.”

Sasha snorted, “Since when did you start doing scare tactics?”

“I'm bored, I don't have anything better to do with my time and racing these idiots isn't as fun like it used to be.”

“Is she useful?”

“Nah, I don't know...anyway, when's our next job? A bitch goin' broke these days.”

Sasha sighed heavily, fighting back a yawn, “Yeah, Queen has something in the works...I don—”

“ _ **COPS! I REPEAT COPS!”**_

The DJ yelled out of nowhere just before the sirens were heard in the distance and closing in on their location fast. Bianca moved faster than light as she was already in her car and peeling out of the lot, uncaring that she almost ran over several people that were trying to get to their own rides. Sasha was sliding into her Ferrari a lot more calmly than she was actually feeling but driving like a panicked maniac wouldn't do her any favors at all.

Sasha was about to take off when someone ran directly in front of her car looking more panicked than anyone else running around if that were even possible and it was Becky. Sasha closed her eyes and cursed Bianca. This was _so_ not her fucking problem! But Sasha honked regardless, catching Becky's attention. Thankfully, the redhead had an ounce of sense it seemed because a second later she was in Sasha's passenger's seat, clutching her backpack for dear life.

Sasha chuckled, flooring it, “You might want to put on your seat belt.”

“R-right,” the task was harder than it should've been but Becky's heart was caught in her throat when everyone swarmed when the DJ alerted them about the cops coming and when she realized that Bianca fucking ditched her! Becky was sure that her life would've been taking the turn for the worse. Finally, Becky had the seat belt in place but it was more like a damn harness—and that told Becky everything she needed to know about what kind of ride she was in for. She didn't even know this blue haired beauty's name and she already owed her for saving her ass.

“Uh oh,” Sasha grinned slyly when three LSPD cars came whirring around the corner but she expertly weaved through them without breaking a sweat and glanced in the rear view mirror to see them making u-turns. She glanced at Becky briefly, her grin growing, “Throw up in my car and I'll kill you, _Becky.”_

* * *

Becky was holding on the harness across her torso for dear life as this crazy blue haired woman made another sharp corner sporting a larger than life smile that scared Becky more than the cops chasing after them. If she didn't know better, she'd say this woman was getting off on this. Becky didn't even know this crazy woman's name but her life was in her hands and she was praying to whatever entity that deemed her worthy enough—to allow Becky to live through this because she's learned her lesson. This life was definitely _not_ for her.

“So! How do you know Bianca?”

“W-what?” Becky gasped, tensing in her seat as another turn was made, narrowly avoiding hitting a pedestrian trying to cross the street, “You're fuckin' batshit lady, y'know that don't ya?”

Sasha took her eyes off the road for a split second to study Becky momentarily, she knew that she picked up on an accent earlier but it was thicker now, more prominent. Possibly due to the fact that she was scared as shit, but that wasn't Sasha's problem. “You're Irish. Cool, what brought you to LS then.”

Becky couldn't believe it. This woman was driving at one hundred and eighteen miles in the city with cops on their asses, and she was attempting to make small talk like they were old friends! Becky's night could not get any weirder.

“Uh, um, Bianca's my um neighbor... _oh shit..._ ” Becky took a deep breath, her face flushed with fear and exhilaration—they were on the highway now, cutting directly in front of a speeding eighteen-wheeler. “My folks are Irish, um, but I'm actually from Liberty City.”

Sasha smirked, “Liberty City, huh? I know a guy there named Tony...he owns a few clubs. What else should I know about you, Becky? You're Bianca's neighbor, from Liberty City, jobless. Basically LS is eating you alive and you wanna take the easy way out...anything I miss?”

Becky glared at Sasha, but she wasn't really pissed at the woman for listing off her life so callously. Becky was just annoyed that she knew even that much because that was Becky's entire life story right there. And she couldn't even get a name. Becky didn't bother saying anything else, she had a feeling that she didn't really need to. She just focused on calming down her queasy stomach and praying that they don't get caught. Eventually, Sasha stopped fooling around and lost the cops now that she had more space to really open the engine of her Ferrari. In a short while they were off of the highway and about an hour or two outside of the city. Becky could tell that they were in the country because the traffic was thinner, it was darker and quieter aside from the loud humming of the car they were in.

Becky, somewhat relaxed now because they weren't going breakneck speeds anymore, looked at the other woman. Really able to study her features now that she wasn't going to die of a heart attack. From what she could tell with the limited lighting—she was pretty, beautiful really. There wasn't a trace of heavy makeup that Becky usually saw on woman around LS but she supposed when someone had natural beauty like that, make up was for the amateurs. And the definition of her toned arms suggested that she was either a gym junkie or into some other heavy shit because there was no way someone got arms like those just racing.

And now that Becky thought about it, Bianca was swole too and she's never really seen her go to the gym—not that Becky has really been paying that much atten—

“What the hell are you looking at?”

Becky blinked, licking her lips nervously as she looked away, “Where are we goin'?”

“Somewhere safe.” Sasha said shortly, slowing down considerably so that she could turn onto a dirt road that anyone would've missed if they didn't know which landmarks to look for.

Becky was starting to get nervous again as she wiped away the sweat on her brow even though the a/c was blowing cold air, “Ya gonna kill me?”

The only answer Becky got in return was a slight upturn of Sasha's lips. Eventually they came to a stop in front of a dark building that Becky didn't even notice until now. It was an old abandoned gas station half mechanic shop. When the Ferrari's engine was shut down, Becky swore that her pounding heart could be heard in the confined space.

“L-listen, look, I dunno shit. I don't know ya lass, never seen ya before! Never seen what's her face either. See? No name, a-and—”

“Shut up.” Becky shut her mouth with an audible _click._ She didn't yell, she didn't try to talk over Becky...she just said it and Becky obeyed despite the urgent need to plead her case. She really didn't want to die in the middle of nowhere. She didn't have much to live for already, but this was just sad. “I'm not going to kill you, that's below me...but I do have a job for you that will make us even.”

“Thanks, lass but no thanks. I've had enough of all this.” Becky scoffed, shaking her head—if she wasn't going to die there was no way in hell she was going to get caught up more than she already has.

“You're under the impression that you had a choice,” Sasha laughed softly over the sound of her tinkering engine cooling off, but it was anything but comforting, “I'll even pay you, ten grand. And I'm being generous, Becky.”

“I—”

“It would be in your _best_ interest if you don't tell me no again.”

Becky swallowed whatever refusal or smart ass comment she was prepared to deliver and sat back in her seat, staring down at her hands in her lap. She didn't want to do it, she _shouldn't_ fuckin' do it—but ten grand was a lot of money. Becky really _needed_ that money. _Fuck. Fuck it. Fucking fuck it._

Becky looked back at Sasha, unsurprised to see her smiling at her—smug and all knowing. Becky wanted to clock her cold for it, but she refrained knowing that it would for sure be a death sentence.

… “Alright, lass, I'm listenin'.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are my own!
> 
> Anywho, Becky girl...whatchu gettin' into sis!
> 
> -Sith


	4. 10k For What?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own anything WWE or GTA related.

* * *

When Becky woke up the next morning she was a little bit disoriented, especially given the fact that she was staring up at a poster of a naked woman on the ceiling. The events of the night before came flooding back to Becky and she groaned quietly as she pressed both palms of her hands against her eyes, “Fucking hell,” she whispered to no one but herself.

How she managed to sleep through the night was beyond her because as far as Becky knew, this woman was a murderer and Becky was her next victim. They were out in the middle of nowhere, hell Becky didn't even know which part of the desert they were in. she just knew it was dark and dusty. And she didn't even know that blue haired devil's name.

Becky sighed heavily, the faint smell of bacon and something else heavenly reaching her hungry stomach that was threatening to cave in on itself. And if she listened closely enough, she could hear some classic rock playing from the jukebox she spotted last night.

Becky considered lying there in the spare bedroom for a few more minutes, or maybe an hour, but she knew that her gracious host would come looking for her sooner or later. Becky got up and set her feet down on the Persian rug right next to her shoes. The building was an old abandoned gas station slash mechanic shop, probably some old biker club Becky was guessing but that one the outside. On the inside? This woman put in some serious work to make this place livable. At least for hide out standards.

Becky put on her shoes and walked out of the spare bedroom. She breezed past the bathroom and walked through the garage that was housing five of the most gorgeous and undoubtedly expensive custom bikes she'd ever seen in her life. If Becky knew how to ride a motorcycle...she would steal one and try to run away. Probably get shot in the process but at least she could say that she tried. Becky hadn't realized that she stopped walking to gawk at the bikes and closed her mouth. She tore her gaze away to continue her trek towards the bar area but she wasn't expecting her host to be standing _inches_ away making Becky flinch. She didn't even hear her come into the garage, and she was wearing high heels for fucks sake!

“Beautiful, aren't they?”

Becky swallowed, eyes darting between the mocha skinned woman and the motorcycles, “Yeah, they're nice.”

She smiled sweetly, but Becky wouldn't trust it, “Hungry, Becky?”

Becky opened her mouth to say no, but her stomach called her a liar before she could even commit to it. The other woman smiled and turned on her heel, beckoning Becky to follow her. Which the redhead did without question, not like she had much of a choice—and shamefully, Becky's eyes dropped down the womans backside because _wow._ Those leather pants were her best friend—she may be some psycho with _way_ too much money...but at least she was hot. Right? Becky saw that there was a single plate of food sitting on the coffee table next to a glass of orange juice. Waffles, bacon and sausage, cheesy eggs topped off with a side of perfectly made toast. _Damn._ Becky sat down on the sofa and gingerly picked up the plate. The thought of it being poisoned briefly crossed her mind but she was too hungry to give a damn.

“I don't even know your name...”

“Sasha.”

“Sasha what?”

“That's all you need to know, Lynch.”

Becky stopped mid-chew looking at the devil, _Sasha,_ with narrowed eyes, “I never told you my last name.”

“No, you didn't. And neither did Bianca if that's what you're wondering...I went through your shit while you were sleep.”

“You did fuckin' what?!” Becky put the plate back down on the table, face flushed with anger, “Ya had no goddamn right smurf!”

“I have every right to know who you are,” Sasha replied softly, calm and collected in the face of Becky's ire, “Just in case you get cold feet and take my hard earned money, and ultimately hurt my feelings.”

“Fuck your feelings, you're a bit of a nut, ya know that don't ya?”

Sasha rolled her eyes slightly, “Yeah, you've told me several times last night as I was saving your ass and keeping you out of jail, or worse.”

“Or worse?” Becky scoffed, drinking down half of her orange juice before picking up her plate again because as much as she wanted to fight the woman sitting in the chair on the other side of the table, she had to admit that she cooked like she drove. “What could be worse than jail, other than getting stuck with you?”

Sasha half scoffed half laughed, and crossed her legs, “The cops in this town aren't as innocent and for the badge as you might think. Nothing in Los Santos is real, and that is a mantra that you will do well to live by, Becky.”

“Look,” Becky finished chewing her toast, “Fuck your philosophy, smurf...what the fuck do ya want me to do for ten grand? Hmm? Kill someone? 'Cos I ain't gonna do that.”

Sasha raised a perfectly arched eyebrow, “I have enough killers on payroll, so no...I don't need another doing my blood deeds... _but..._ there is someone who owes me a little something.”

“Which...is what?”

“Funny you should ask that...I promised you ten grand but they owe me ten grand.” Sasha's smirk morphed into a devilish grin when realization flashed across Becky's face when she realized where this conversation was going, “You collect from this piece of shit and you get paid. Simple. I did you a favor, now you do me a favor.”

“That's bullshit.”

Sasha shrugged, “You're the one that wanted to see the greener side of the fence, well now you're at the bottom of the hill. This is how the shit works. So I suggest you finish that up, your job isn't gonna be easy, sweetheart. We're leaving in twenty.”

* * *

Sasha's driving wasn't making Becky queasy this time. It wasn't because she was used to it, far from it really, but the woman wasn't driving like their lives depended on it and it was bright out so it was easier for Becky to see and confirm that they weren't about to drive off of a goddamn cliff to their fiery deaths.

Becky looked out of the passengers window towards LS as they headed back towards the city. It was beautiful from afar, hell from within. “So, what then? I just go in there and demand ten grand from someone named Moshpit Kid? The fuck kinda name is that?”

Sasha smirked but she didn't say anything, she just turned up the radio and softly sang along to the song that was playing...some old Motown song that Becky has heard a few times. The Irishwoman sighed heavily and rubbed at her eyes. Fuck if she didn't need the goddamn money.

They drove in silence for the rest of the way, and Becky was surprised to see that they were in the seediest part of the city—far worse than her own neighborhood. And the further they drove into the area, the more they stood out. Becky was getting a little nervous, more than a little nervous, but Sasha seemed perfectly content. Becky was starting to understand that this woman had more street power than she let on because she's heard stories about this neighborhood.

Finally, Sasha turned off the main road and into a strip mall that was run down and super shady. Sasha backed into a parking space and turned off her car before looking at Becky, “Don't take too long, I have shit to do today.”

Becky eyed the bright yellow hummer across the parking lot in front of the pawn shop that was surrounded by a bunch of thugs wearing purple and white and on the other side, there were some cutlass vehicles with a group of men wearing green and white. It was clear to Becky that these group of men were gangs and rivals...a shootout could happen at any moment. Sasha had gotten out of the car with her aviators firmly in place and she was leaning on the hood of her Ferrari. The men were looking but they all knew better than approach her despite the fact that Sasha was clearly out numbered if they _did_ decide to do something.

“I don't think this is a good idea.” Becky mumbled, standing close to Sasha, tense as a bridge wire.

Sasha sighed, rolling her eyes, “We're in neutral territory. Now go in there and get the fucking money, Lynch. Tell Moshpit that Boss wants her money. And if you can, grab me some butter rolls.”

“Fuck off,” Becky growled as she began her trek towards the restaurant...taking a shaky breath before she opened the door and walked inside.

* * *

Inside was as Becky expected it to be, cheap prices and the bare minimum as far as restaurant decor went. It was pretty empty except a few people here and there. There was a group sitting in the booth near the bar. There was a real pasty looking guy with the reddest hair Becky's seen on a man, kind of like hers and she automatically knew that he was Irish but unlike her she knew that the LS sun was probably killing him. He was sitting next to a woman with short black hair and a tattoo on the back of her neck that looked like the Eye of Ra. Sitting across the booth from them was another woman, solidly built with blonde short hair—she looked like trouble.

Becky stopped at the register where the cashier was waiting impatiently, “Can I help you?”

“Uh, yeah...yeah, I'm lookin' for someone named Moshpit Kid...I know it sounds stupid...but...”

“You looking for me, Red? Huh?” that accent was every bit of Australian.

Becky looked over her shoulder and saw that the blonde woman from the booth was now standing a few feet behind her and the man and woman were watching them closely. Becky licked her lips, she knew this was going to turn into fight. But Becky was never one to back down from a fight, no matter what—whether she was outnumbered or her opponent was bigger than she was. Like right now...the woman in front of her was Moshpit Kid, whatever the fuck that name was supposed to mean. Becky didn't know if the woman she'd been sitting with was going to join in on the inevitable fight.

“Yeah, Boss wants her money.”

The woman stared at her then she just started laughing, “Boss? Wants her fuckin' money, and she sends what? _You?_ What the fuck are you gonna do?”

Becky shrugged, and took off the jacket she was wearing, “I'm not gonna leave without that money.” if Becky didn't know that, that money was technically now hers...she would've never decided to go this route. But she needed that money...she needed it badly.

Outside, Sasha was playing candy crush on her phone still leaning against the hood of her car without a care in the world. She looked up when the doors of the restaurant burst open, nearly off being torn off the hinges as Becky was practically thrown in the middle of the parking lot by a pissed off Australian. Sasha put her phone away and stalked over to where Becky was laying on the ground...sweating and breathing heavily, her lip was busted and her nose looked busted too. She was definitely going to have a nice black eye to deal with later too.

Sasha caught the brown paper bag that Rhea tossed to her, “Next time you want me beat the shit outta one of your playthings, Boss, lemme know.”

Sasha glanced down at Becky who was now sitting up, leaning on her elbow and spat out a glob of blood then she looked back to Rhea, “Figured I'd make you paying me back a little bit more fun.”

Rhea laughed, shaking her head, “When you called me about it last night, I should've known...since when did you start taking in new hitters?”

“I haven't. This is a lesson.” Sasha tossed the brown bag on the ground next to a very pissed off Becky, “Let's go.”

Rhea enjoyed the view of Sasha walking away before she looked down at Becky who was glaring at her as everything clicked into place for her, “Good luck, Red.”

The drive out of the neighborhood was quiet and tense. Sasha didn't seem to care that Becky was bleeding in her car—hell, Becky didn't even give a shit that she was. She hoped that Sasha had to replace the leather seats, hell, she could afford it couldn't she?!

“You're a real piece of shit, ya know that?”

Sasha glanced at Becky, shrugging, “Either way, the money is still yours.”

“You fuckin' set me up!” Becky yelled, throwing down the rag Sasha had pulled from her trunk for her gushing nose, “Who does that!? A fuckin' psycho! That's who!”

“No,” Sasha drawled, somehow still managing to be calm about everything despite Becky practically leaning over the console to yell at her, “The real psycho here is _you,_ Lynch. You wanted to see this life, and I'm giving you what you wanted. Most would've put a bullet in your head for you to remember forever, I'm giving you ten thousand dollars. Count your blessings, baby and shut the fuck up and enjoy the ride.”

Becky scoffed, shaking her head but she didn't say anything else—which was a good thing, for her sake. “If ten grand isn't that much money to you people, then why is Bianca—”

“Bianca lives there for a reason that is completely different from yours. She's there because I tell her to be...you're there because you've made piss poor decisions.”

“Fuck you.”

“You won't be able to keep up. But listen...after I drop you off, that's it. You're out, and I don't ever wanna see you again, Lynch. You understand me?”

“You can't tell me what I can and can't do, _Boss._ ” Becky spat, getting agitated and Sasha quickly cut across five lanes on the highway to pull over on the shoulder—nearly causing a few accidents and getting honked at from other drivers. Sasha cut the engine and before Becky could blink, she was staring down the barrel of a Desert Eagle .50 caliber. “Um...” _where the fuck did she even pull that from?!_

“Exactly.” Sasha lowered the gun into her lap, but the barrel was still facing Becky making her nervous but at this point, Becky was positive that if Sasha really wanted her dead—she would've been dead before the sun rose this morning. “What are you even good at, Becky? Hm?”

“I...I know that gun in your lap is a Desert Eagle .50 cal, one of the most powerful semi-automatic handguns on this planet. It's big and clumsy, but it works. Easily costing two grand. If you really wanted to shoot me, ya would've taken the safety off first...but you wouldn't shoot me in a small space. Too loud, too big.”

“You know guns, interesting but you're still a liability. Liabilities are death, Becky. Take the money and leave it alone.”

“Why do you even care what I do after this, huh? Ya don't even know me, if I wanna get myself killed lemme do it. I ain't your responsibility.”

Sasha sighed, “Fine. Don't say that I didn't warn you, Lynch.” Sasha started her car again, and took off—neither of them speaking for the remainder of the drive back to Becky's apartment.

* * *

_Back across Los Santos..._

“I'll introduce you when things cool down, alright?” Rhea tossed aside the kitchen rag, the cut on her knuckles finally stopped bleeding but the skin was still very much tender and probably will be for the remainder of the day. “Boss, she's um...she's the connect in LS, but she's complicated and hard trusting. Give me some time to set up a meet, and I'll call you.”

Bayley and her quiet companion, Sheamus, shared a look and Bayley smiled somewhat, “You have three days. We'll be in touch.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peep that I changed a few of the tags. All mistakes are my own I did my best.
> 
> -Sith


	5. No Rest For The Wicked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own anything WWE or GTA related. I'm just havin' a bit of fun.:)

* * *

Bayley sighed heavily as she tossed aside her disposable coffee cup, not really caring that there was a trash can less than ten feet away from her. She was sitting on a bench near Vespucci beach a few blocks from the hotel she and her associates were residing for the time being. Two days have passed since Bayley has heard from their contact, Rhea, but she had another twenty-four hours to get back to them before Bayley would send Sheamus and Cesaro to pay her a visit.

Bayley checked her watch, finding that it was still fairly early in the morning despite the fact that the sun was high in the sky and people were jogging and working out at the Vespucci beach outdoor ‘gym’ half naked. Bayley figured that this was all just the Los Santos life style now, it was different from what she remembered when she was younger. Life had been rough for her growing up and she took the first opportunity she could to escape from it, and now fifteen years later...she was back. For all the wrong reasons that also happened to be the right ones.

Sheamus and Cesaro weren’t too happy relocating back to the United States, much less Los Santos but it hadn’t been their call--it never really was. Hence why Bayley was up at some god awful hour of the morning waiting on their bitch of a--

“Don’t look so happy to be here.”

_Ah, speak of the devil and shall appear._ Bayley smiled appearing to look casual and inviting but it was more of a grimace than anything, “Stephanie, nice of you to be late. As usual.”

The older woman chuckled as if Bayley was telling a joke and not pointing out the truth that she was never on time for their meetings. Stephanie sat on the other end of the bench and opened up her book, “I had a few things to take care of first. Have you settled into the city yet?”

Bayley checked her phone as if she were getting a phone call, before bringing the device up to her ear, “No, but we managed to catch wind of one of the show runner’s, we’re waiting for our contact to arrange a sit down. We're expecting a call tonight so we’ll set it up for next week.”

“Hmm, good.” Stephanie turned a page in her book, crossing her leg over her knee, “Don’t want to seem too eager. Which one is it?”

“The Boss. The Los Santos Street Queen. According to our contact, she runs a lot more than fast cars. As for what? We don’t know yet, but this could be our way in.”

Stephanie hummed thoughtfully, quiet for a minute as she processed the information--it wasn’t anything that they did not already know, well _suspected,_ but it was a nice little touch to have it confirmed. “Fine, lean on this one...but don’t focus so much on the small fish, Bayley. Street racing is hardly what I’m interested in. Find The Boss’s Boss and break it open.”

“What about the FIB?” Bayley rolled her eyes, shifting away from Stephanie as she still talked into her phone, “They’re lurking around too. Do we take them out, or what?”

“Leave it alone, it may work in our favor as long as your guy Cesaro keeps his finger off the trigger. I don't like attention. I want this city before they realize that I am here. Got it?”

Bayley scoffed but nodded.

Stephanie sighed and finally closed her book, “Keep in touch.”

Bayley watched the older woman walk away before she ended her call but she remained on that bench for another few minutes until she felt ready to head back to the hotel because she knew that Sheamus and Cesaro were eager to dive into the action.

* * *

_**Meanwhile…** _

Becky was on top of the world, well at least she was on cloud nine. She was sporting some nasty bruises on her upper body, namely around her ribs along with a busted up face including a black eye but she was ten thousand dollars richer than she was two days ago. The soreness she felt as she packed her groceries up several flights of stairs went ignored because well...she had some fucking groceries! And Becky was able to catch up on her rent and put a little extra down for three months just in case she fell on hard times again.

She had eight grand left but Becky was a simple woman who regularly fought with can-openers...she could make this work despite the fact that Becky was tempted to buy all the shit that she'd been tempted to buy a long time ago.

As much as Becky hated to admit it, she owed this little bit of financial freedom and relief to that crazy blue haired bitch, Sasha. Becky still wanted to beat her down for having _her_ beat down in the middle of some run down restaurant and practically in the middle of a parking lot. Becky could forgive but she damn sure wasn’t forgetting that anytime soon.

Currently, Becky was lounging on her ratty old sofa with the TV playing some cartoon in the background as she scrolled through her job app because she knew that the eight grand wasn’t going to be there forever. But her attempts at finding another job or two were halfhearted, she just wasn’t focused on it--and she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why she kept thinking about Sasha. And not because she just wanted to deliver a little payback on the woman either.

Becky, not for the first time, cursed herself for not getting Sasha’s contact information or at least prying to see where the woman frequently hung around. Becky wasn’t a fool to think that Sasha’s only car would be a damn Ferrari. The day that Sasha dropped Becky off at home, Becky was too stubborn to really say too much to the shorter woman and had all but shattered her window when she got out of the car. Becky knew that Sasha was right the entire time, she just would never tell the other woman that. _Ever._

Becky has been hearing the news daily, she knows how dangerous LS streets are. Anyone in Sasha’s position would have put a bullet in her skull and ditched her without thinking twice. Sasha gave her money in the most painful way but Becky was still alive.

And it wasn’t as if Becky has seen Bianca in the last couple of days either. She hasn't even seen the other womans car in the parking lot lately either—it was a little weird but Becky didn't care enough about her to actually be worried. But what Becky was really worried about was making more money. Making that ten grand, no matter how bloody things had gotten—was a nice chunk of change for someone like her.

The jobs that were hiring in her area didn't appeal to Becky anymore, the thought of them didn't excite her, nor did making almost fifteen an hour at some bullshit call center. Becky wanted to make _money._ She got a little taste with that blue haired psycho and she wanted more. She _needed_ more. She'd finally found her calling card and she couldn't for the life of her—find the door again. Suddenly, Becky perked up on the sofa remembering something as she quickly pulled out her phone and found the contact that she was looking for. It wasn't Sasha, but it would have to do for now because Becky was sure that this would lead her back into that world and then she'd focus on finding Sasha.

“ _Hello?”_

“Carmella, aye, it's me, Becky...”

_**Meanwhile...half-way out of the city...** _

Sasha was sitting in the passenger's seat of her sisters SUV with her shoes off and her feet up on the dashboard while she played crossword puzzles on her phone to help pass the time while Charlotte handled business calls for the better half of their trip. They were already a few hours behind schedule according to Charlotte because as usual, Sasha would never answer the goddamn phone.

Sasha groaned, pausing her game to put her phone on the charger, “Tell me again why we're driving to Bullworth instead of just flying like normal people again?”

Charlotte glanced at her sister with a small smirk, knowing that it was driving her crazy being in the passenger's seat, “Because you're wanted and we don't have time to be paying off the TSA so we're driving.”

“Well, if you hadn't cut me out of your life then you would know that we could have just taken our plane and—”

“Sasha, I cut you off _financially,_ idiot, but mind you that I am still paying your bills so shut up. Please. If a headache was a person, Sasha, I swear you'd be it.”

“If a headache was a person...” Sasha mocked under her breath but not low enough that Charlotte couldn't hear, “I honestly don't know why you insist on coming to these family gatherings, Charlie, much less drag me down with you. Some big sister you are. I thought you were supposed to love and protect me?”

Charlotte rolled her eyes, “I'm not going to another family gathering alone, Sasha. I can't keep cutting for your absences...unless you want them to come to Los Santos to make sure that I didn't kill you and have you buried quietly.”

Sasha wanted to complain but she understood her sister's pain about these so called 'family gatherings' because their family were rich and judgmental assholes that Sasha wanted absolutely nothing to do with which is why she also made sure Charlotte couldn't find her when it was time to go to one. Which was about every other month, sometimes three months apart at a time.

“Whatever, if you'd let me drive we could get there faster.”

Charlotte shook her head, “You know you're not allowed to operate anything on wheels in Bullworth anymore after that skateboard incident your senior year. Dad's still embarrassed about that, you know? We'll trade off half way there but for now, just relax.”

Sasha snickered, getting comfortable again—she remembered that incident quite well. It was when she learned of her thirst for everything fast, “Those were good times...the times when all we had to worry about was getting our asses beat in front of the library or on the football field.”

Charlotte smirked at the memories because Sasha was right _those_ were some trying but really good times when they were younger. Charlotte was still upset with her sister about the whole cargo plane purchase and nearly putting them in a financial hole without a real back-up plan or even consulting with her in the first place. However, as frustrated as she was with that particular situation—Sasha was her ride or die.

“Sasha?”

“Huh,” Sasha hummed softly, but her focus was on the shooter game she was playing...and losing.

“What the hell did you buy a cargo plane for? I mean.... _why?”_

“We can't do what we do forever, sis. Eventually we're either going to have to settle in Los Santos or we're gonna piss off the wrong person and get chased out like Rusev and Botox Barbie. And if we have a cargo plane, we could take some cars and pack up a lot of our stuff so we don't have to completely start over.”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow, glancing over at her sister curiously because...wow. She hadn't really thought of it from that perspective just yet. She figured that this was another one of Sasha's impulsive purchases (probably still is on some level) but the reasoning behind it made a lot more sense than Charlotte would've expected. And thoughtful.

“Or I could always load up some cars and go race overseas. Either way.”

_Ah._ Charlotte rolled her eyes, shaking her head—that was probably the _real_ reason then. “Of course. Stay off the FIB and IAA radar, okay?”

It was Sasha's turn to roll her eyes, “Yeah, whatever, we're only in trouble with the IAA because of you.”

“Sasha please don't start that again.”

“Oh so you can always bring up my bullshit, but I can't bring up yours? Oh that's typical Charlotte Flair holier than thou mentality.”

“I doubt anyone would miss you if I dropped you off in the middle of the desert.”

“Bitch, you'd miss me, stop it.” Sasha scoffed, finally looking up from her phone and at her sister, “You're always so mean to me, and hear I was about to tell you about this new player in town so you didn't have to find out on your own. I'm so underappreciated.”

“What? Wait, shut up for a second...what new player?”

“Which one is it? Do you want me to shut up, or do you want me to tell you about—”

“Sasha! Oh my god, shut up and tell me--”

“Which one is it!?”

“Ugh!” Charlotte quickly crossed two lanes so that she could pull over onto the side of the highway, not giving a damn about the angry drivers that blared past them and waving their middle fingers at her. Charlotte put the SUV in parked and turned in her seat to look at Sasha, “What. New. Player?”

“I don't know—”

Charlotte made a choking noise, purely out of growing frustration and Sasha quickly threw up her hands, “I don't! I was with Matt all morning helping him make deliveries when one of my contacts, Rhea, called me up. Some chick named Bayley paid some serious cash to have a sit down with me next week. I don't know shit yet. I have Seth and Bianca working on it, but according to Rhea...this chick is just a Lieutenant. What she wants with me? I don't know. Yet.”

Charlotte licked her lips as she sat back in her seat, digesting everything that her sister had just told that Sasha had just told her. Her mind thinking in a calculative manner. Over the years, she and Sasha have made plenty of enemies as well as allies but they both knew that when it came down to it—it was just them against the world.

As badly as Charlotte wanted to make a u-turn back to LS, she knew that they still had a family obligation—if not to just use this as an excuse to ditch the next couple of family functions. “We'll get through this weekend then and when we get back, I want answers, Sasha. Okay?”

Sasha raised an eyebrow, immediately taking quick notice of her sisters attitude change, she'd gotten serious very quickly and when her sister was like this—the hairs on the back of Sasha's neck always raised in alarm. “Is there a reason why you're so pressed about this? This isn't my first sit down, Charlie.”

Charlotte was quiet for a few very long seconds before she answered her sister, “There were rumors circulating for a couple of weeks now about a new player in town...and when Rusev withdrew his operations, I just took it as a confirmation.”

Sasha's eyes widened almost comically, “What...and you're just now telling me this shit?!”

“Oh, like you're the one to be talking about being forthcoming about shit, Sasha.”

Sasha chose to ignore that because she truly didn't have a solid defense to that truth, “Do you think they're the ones that ran Rusev out of the country?” Charlotte blinked but gave no other response and Sasha closed her eyes, “Fuck.”

“I want you to arrange a crew meeting at our Blaine county bunker when we come back.”

Sasha nodded and immediately sat up in her seat so she could reach back into the backseat to grab her backpack to dig out her burner phone. Sasha immediately found the six numbers and sent out a quick message before she turned off the phone and popped the battery without waiting a for a response. She usually never did. As Sasha put her bag back in the backseat, she also grabbed her trusty side arm and sat it in her lap. Officially paranoid and Charlotte didn't say much about it, but she did jump into the fast lane.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are my own, thank you all for your subs, kudos and comments. Really appreciate all of them equally:)
> 
> -Sith


	6. Family Affairs Pt 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Nights for the edit! 
> 
> I don't own anything GTA or WWE related. 
> 
> Warning...could be some triggers in the chapter.

* * *

Bullworth.  _ Ugh.  _ Sasha sighed heavily as she sat slumped in the passenger's seat, eyes glued to the tree's blurring by—she missed the desert view already. Charlotte was on the phone, but Sasha was hardly listening because it sounded like some low-level business call that had nothing to do with her. She could see Bullworth in the distance, her doom growing closer and Sasha was still wondering if it was too late to bribe her sister with selling the cargo plane if it meant that she didn't have to go.

It probably was.

Sasha hated Bullworth, the only decent thing about the whole fucking town was the fact that she had her big sister at her side all the damn time. Watching her back and usually getting them into deeper shit—but it was always fun. Those were the only good memories Sasha truly had of this place if she were being completely honest. And from the looks of things, Bullworth still hadn't changed.

Sasha was a little surprised to see that those same Michelle and pop shops she'd been banned from for life, were still open—and looked exactly the same as they had all those years ago. Bullworth was still presenting itself as the clean and upstanding town despite the filthy alleys every block. As they crossed over one of the bridges entering town, Sasha caught a glimpse of the southeastern section of the town and scoffed.

That was the greaser and townie 'territory'. It was rundown in that part of town, not even Bullworth's sorry ass police ride through there nor did they ever respond to police calls that came from that area. Sasha suspected that nothing had changed in that aspect.

The rest of the town was full of asshole socialites and wannabes. Sasha slouched further in her seat and that was when Charlotte finally ended her phone call. She glanced at Sasha and smiled softly, “It's only two days, kid, cheer up.”

Sasha's eyes lingered on the Bullworth bank as they passed it by, “Two days already feels like two years of my life that I won't be getting back. Do you know what I could be doing instead of this?”

“The list is too much of a headache.” was all Charlotte said, right before she and Sasha saw familiar red and blue lights flashing behind them. Charlotte sighed deeply, rolling her eyes as she pulled over while Sasha pressed her foot down hard on the floor—before she remembered that she wasn't driving. It was a natural reaction for her to floor anything she was driving if there was a cop behind her flashing their lights.

It was probably a good thing that Charlotte was driving then, Sasha thought grimly as she watched cop number two get out of the passenger's side of the cop car. At least she had the right idea of tucking away her gun once they arrived in town.

_ Tap. Tap. Tap. _

Charlotte rolled down her window with an award winning smile and Sasha nearly gagged, “Evening, Sheriff. Is something wrong?”

“Yeah...” the older man glanced at Sasha who was mean mugging him, “That one...noticed two heads in here and wanted to give you both a warning. I don't want any shenanigans in my town, Sasha. You hear me?”

Sasha smiled at him sweetly, and then proceeded to flip him off but Charlotte quickly put her hand over her sisters and nearly broke her finger as she smiled at the Sheriff, tight around the edges, “I promise, I'll keep her on a short leash this time, Sheriff.”

Sheriff Michaels grunted, still glaring at Sasha before looking at Charlotte, completely unimpressed, “I'll have my eye on  _ both _ of you. Drive safely, Flair.”

Charlotte finally let go of Sasha's hand and the younger Flair immediately cradled her hand to her chest and Charlotte almost wished she would have broken it anyway, “Are you serious? You know that man hates us and—”

“Yeah, whatever, fuck that guy. You almost broke my finger!”

“Good!” Charlotte snapped sharper than she intended but the closer they got to the Flair manor, the more on edge she felt. She could just hear the mental version of Sasha telling her that it wasn't too late to turn around, hell, she was positive that the real Sasha would tell her that too. For the thousandth time.

The rest of the drive was quiet, both women mentally preparing themselves for the next two days. Sasha knew that she was going to have an easier time than Charlotte, like always. Everyone seemed to always jump down Charlotte's throat about this and that, what she needs to be doing and all of that bullshit. For Sasha, it was always about her hair color choices...and well, her choices in general but Sasha was used to it. She didn't give a fuck about them  _ or  _ their narrow minded opinions—she had nothing to prove. But her big sister? She had the weight of the world on her shoulder.

“Hey, you okay?”

Charlotte nodded, lips pressed tightly as she watched the Flair manor gate slowly open—the familiar creaking of the gate sending chills down her spine. As they drove along the long quarter mile driveway towards the estate, Charlotte was preparing her key points while Sasha was scouting for good hiding spots to smoke so she wouldn't have a stroke dealing with these people.

“What the hell?”

Hearing this, Sasha turned back around in her seat to see what the commotion was about and blinked slowly— _ huh.  _ There was no one here...just their parents' cars parked outside. “I thought you said the whole family was gonna be here?”

“That's what dad said...”

“Great.”

* * *

Unlike Charlotte, Sasha's only luggage was her Nike duffel bag that she insisted she carry inside on her own despite the butlers coming outside to help them settle in before dinner. Sasha didn't want their grubby sticky fingers on anything that belonged to her. The Flair manor was always the same every time they came back home to 'visit', Sasha wasn't even sure why she was surprised anymore. The same maids and butlers (if they were still alive), the same fancy porcelains and carpeting. Hell even her room was the same.

At least it wasn't dusty.

Sasha set her duffel bag on her bed and quickly laid down, popping her back after sitting in that weird but comfortable position for a few hours. Sasha checked her messages but everything was still quiet back in LS thankfully.

It was ten minutes later, when someone knocked on the door and informed her that her parents were requesting her company.  _ Ugh. _

When Sasha got downstairs to the formal living room, Charlotte was already there and she looked like she was constipated or something with that fake smile on her face—and Sasha wanted to know what the heck could've happened in ten minutes after just arriving! She was pretty sure that Sheriff Michaels called ahead and more than likely over exaggerated as usual.

Her dad was out of his chair first and pulling Sasha into a tight hug, nearly picking her up. “Sasha! Ah! My dear, it's been too long since you've come home to visit your old man!”

Sasha returned his hug but quickly pulled away without seeming too rude, “Uh, yeah, sorry. I've just been working...a lot.”

“Yes, Charlotte's been saying that but you do remember that you have parents who miss and love you, don't you, Sasha?” Michelle, their lovely mother chided, eyebrow raised as she stood next to Ric. “You could at least call, or send an email next time. I swear Sasha, I don't know who is more ungrateful of the two of you.”

“Oh, wow,” Sasha whispered under her breath, shaking her head.

“Come.”

Sasha refrained from rolling her eyes at her mothers retreating back and followed after her reluctantly leaving Charlotte and Ric alone in the living room and Sasha could only imagine  _ that  _ talk. Sasha quietly trailed after Michelle into the kitchen where the chef was finishing the last touches of dinner. However, when he saw them he quickly turned off the stove and excused himself.

“So, where is everyone else?”

“They aren't coming.”

Sasha turned around so quickly she almost got whiplash, “They aren't coming?”

“That's what I said. Perhaps your Aunt will join us tonight but I highly doubt it. She's probably off drinking booze and flirting with married men.”

“It's scary how badly you talk about your own sister, mother.”

The Flair matriarch looked down at her youngest child with a raised eyebrow, “Women like my sister ruin marriages, luckily your father and I have a bond that is stronger than most could ever hope for. When Charlotte first came along, I forgave him for breaking our vows. But when you were carried through my front door, barely two weeks old...I could've killed him.”

“So, why didn't you?”

Sasha watched as Michelle poured herself a full glass of wine, “Reasons you wouldn't understand. Men are weak minded and susceptible to everything tempting. Always remember that Sasha.”

“Well,” Sasha smiled tightly, not liking to be reminded that she and Charlotte were both conceived during an affair—it happened every time they came to visit. “Good thing I prefer women, then.”

“Christ.” Michelle scoffed, rolling her eyes, “Honestly, Sasha—”

Before Michelle could finish whatever backhanded comment that she was about to make to Sasha, one of the maids came into the kitchen and nervously told them that dinner was going to be starting soon. Sasha all but flew out of the kitchen and into the dining room. Charlotte's eyes immediately locked onto her little sister as she came storming into the dining room and practically threw herself into the chair next to her. Of course Ric acted as if he didn't notice and continued to prepare his napkin in his lap.

“What happened?” Charlotte asked quietly to avoid being overheard by the staff as they brought in dinner and Michelle who was taking the seat at the head of the table, opposite of their father.

Sasha shrugged, eyes glued to the plate in front of her, “Nothing.”

Charlotte frowned, not believing her for one second, “Sasha—”

“Ahem, Mrs. Flair, we have a guest.” the butler said as he held open the dining room door and before anyone could say a word, Sasha was out of her chair and in the arms of her favorite Aunt. The very same woman that their mother was just bad mouthing earlier in the kitchen.

Charlotte smiled but she didn't miss the way Michelle rolled her eyes and down the rest of her wine before demanding one of the maids to refill it for her with a harsh glare followed by her snapping her fingers.

Ric cleared his throat, shifting in her chair seemingly a little uncomfortable, “Trish, we weren't expecting you tonight.”

Trish and Sasha finally ended their hug and Trish came over to place a kiss on Charlotte's forehead as a warm greeting before she took a seat across the table from the two sisters. “Well, I couldn't resist when I heard that  _ both  _ of my favorite nieces were in town. And Sasha, I love your hair, honey.”

Michelle scoffed under her breath, “Don't encourage her.”

Trish ignored her sister, “I feel like it's been ages since I've seen either of you, how have you been?”

And so that's how their family dinner went for the remainder of the night with Trish reconnecting with her nieces that she hardly ever got to see while both ignoring her snarky sister and Ric who was being an asshole about the whole thing but that was nothing new. But for Sasha and Charlotte, they had forgotten how much their parents hated their Aunt because she truly doesn't come around that often but they could never understand what ever went down between their Aunt and their parents.

“Are either of you seeing anyone in the big city then?”

Sasha scoffed but Charlotte was the one that shook her head, “No, not really. We're both too busy to settle for anything serious right now.”

“Oh please,” their mother chimed in, as she helped herself to another glass of wine, “You're never to busy to settle down and start a family. You're just an accountant, Charlotte. Really, how busy do you think you are?”

Sasha gave her mother a scathing look when she noticed that Charlotte wasn't going to say anything to defend herself, “You're forgetting the fact that she owns her own accounting firm, Charlotte does a lot—”

“Yes, yes,” Ric laughed, “When I was your age, accounting was a good stepping stone, but eventually you have to look at the bigger picture.”

Trish laughed but it lacked any humor, “Owning an accounting firm is a pretty big deal, and I think that instead of telling Charlotte what she needs to do with her life—we should support her decisions because clearly she can do it on her own.”

Ric glared at the woman, his smile finally cracking for the first time this evening, “Trish, if being a nurse for the rest of your life is something you're happy with then so be it, but my daughters will not settle for mediocrity. I won't stand for it.”

Sasha rolled her eyes and dropped her fork loudly, gaining the attention of everyone at the table but she didn't give a damn— _ this  _ is why she skipped out on all of these stupid family gatherings. They weren't so everyone in their prestigious little family could catch up and reconnect. It was for everyone to boast about their latest business ventures and see who was better than everyone else while putting down the ones truly happy with themselves. Sasha couldn't believe she let Charlotte drag her out to this when she could've been back in Los Santos working on her cars.

Sasha didn't know what came over her but something deep inside of her just snapped. She was over everything.

“Well, then, I guess you're not gonna be happy to know that I'm a mechanic...and gay.”

Charlotte nearly choked on her water, eyes wide as she looked at her sister.  _ Oh no... _

“Excuse me?” Ric bellowed, eyes wide while Michelle continued to glare at her sister, “You're what?”

“Yeah, you heard me...I'm gay. Gay as fuck, and I work on cars all day. That's what I do, and I'm happy about it.”

“No,” Ric growled, rising from his seat and pointing a finger at Sasha, “No child of mine will shame this family. Your mother and I took care of you since you were a baby, Sasha. We loved you, and when you were sick we lost days and nights making sure you were well! And this is what we get back?! Shame and embarrassment?! After everything this family has done for you?!”

“Guess it wasn't just a high school phase, huh?”

Ric looked like he was about to have an absolute conniption when Sasha stormed out of the dining room with their Aunt hot on her trail and Charlotte flinched when he and Michelle turned their ire towards her.

“Just what in the hell have you been letting your sister do?!”

“I—” Charlotte took a deep breath, knowing that her face was flushed with anger from what Ric said to Sasha, “She's her own person, dad, and if she's happy...then I'm happy, as you guys should be.”

“Get out,” Michelle hissed, her eyes narrowed into slits, “Get out of this house and take that little harlot with you. You two are no children of ours!”

Charlotte blinked away her tears and tried to ignore her heartache, “We were never your children, Michelle.”

Charlotte didn't give either of them time to reply, throwing her napkin down on the table and walking out of the dining room as well to find her sister. Charlotte could feel her stomach in knots and that her heart was still beating way too fast to be considered calm and collected but despite being on the verge of an anxiety attack—she felt free. This was definitely not how she expected this weekend to go. She knew that it was going to be testy but not this explosive. Charlotte felt an immense amount of guilt because it was her idea to make Sasha come with her if only to just get their parents off her back about her failing love life and just about everything else about her life. Charlotte put Sasha in this position and now they were both about to not only be disowned but the disgraces of the family if Michelle had anything to say about it. Hell, between Michelle and Ric—they make themselves look like victims or something.

Sasha never cared about things like that, not like Charlotte did but that was because Sasha was never pressured to uphold the Flair family name like it was some sort of crown either. And as free as Charlotte felt...this was all very bittersweet for her. And it would take her time to process her feelings but not before she got Sasha the hell out of Bullworth because she should've never been here in the first place.

With the knowledge that Sasha was in good hands with their Aunt, who was used to being the family black sheep, for the time being Charlotte went upstairs to get their bags, thankful that Sasha only had one.

* * *

_ Somewhere outside...not too far from the Flair Mansion... _

Trish found Sasha out beneath the gazebo, sitting on one of the benches with her hands in her lap and staring out at the lake. It was pretty dark outside but the older woman could see the tears rolling down Sasha's cheeks and she could see how tight her lips were pressed together. Sasha may not have been outright crying but Trish was positive that the girls soul was sobbing and she was the only one that could hear it.

Trish licked her lips and took a deep quiet breath as she sat next to Sasha, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Sasha immediately leaned into her Aunt, molding perfectly into her side and warmth. Neither said a word for a few minutes, just listening to the crickets and sounds of nature surrounding them. In the distance, the Bullworth carnival music could be heard as well.

Trish wasn't going to ask if Sasha was okay, she knew that she wasn't but she also knew that she eventually would be. So she was just content to be her silent support and hold her until she didn't want to be held anymore.

“This family sucks.”

Trish snorted without meaning to but she couldn't disagree, she rubbed Sasha's bicep and held her a little tighter, “I'm proud of you, y'know?”

This time it was Sasha's turn to snort, “Proud of me for what? Getting disowned?”

“For standing up for your sister, and for yourself. You were always tough, Sasha, and I'm so glad that they haven't snuffed it out of you.”

“They tried.” Sasha sniffled, despite herself—she hated being vulnerable, but this was her Aunt...the only Aunt who gave a shit about her and her sister beyond superficial socialism, “I don't know why this hurts so bad. I mean, I expected Michelle to react badly...she put me in therapy when I was fifteen when I said I liked a girl. But Ric? He...”

“I know,” Trish kissed the top of Sasha's head, “I know, baby, I do.”

“I wonder if my real mom would love me unconditionally.”

Trish swallowed thickly, eyes never straying from the lake in front of them, “What do you know about your real mother, Sasha?”

Sasha wiped her eyes gently, shrugging as she snuggled further into her Aunt's warm embrace, “I don't...Ric never talks about her. But Michelle...she... she said that my mom was too far out on drugs to take care of me properly and Ric got full custody. But I bet she wouldn't give a shit about me being a walking lesbian cliché. She'd still love me, right?”

If Sasha noticed Trish tensing next to her, she didn't say anything or she probably just didn't notice because her own emotions were running rampant, “Of course I—I think she would, Sasha.”

Sasha pulled away slightly so that she could look at her Aunt, eyebrows furrowed, “Aunt Trish, do...do you...?”

Trish reached up to soothe out one of Sasha's eyebrows gently, “Do I what, honey?”

“Do you know who she is? My real mom, I mean? I...know what Michelle said, but I don't trust her. But I trust you...so, do you know?”

Trish looked into Sasha's brown eyes, almost as if she were looking in a reflection, “I—”

“Hey guys.” Charlotte walked up to the gazebo seemingly appearing out of thin air startling her sister and their Aunt, “I...don't mean to interrupt, but Sasha I think we should get going before Michelle calls the cops. She's going on a rampage in the house, and dad...Ric went out to a bar.”

Trish frowned hearing that, but she didn't say anything as Sasha reluctantly got to her feet, her hand still holding onto Trish's shirt unwilling to let the older woman go so soon. Trish stood, reaching out to grab Charlotte's hand when she was close enough to pull her closer so that they were all in a group hug. It was a little bit of a challenge since Charlotte towered over both of them, and Trish held them both for a very long time before kissing both of their foreheads and letting them go.

“You both be safe going back to Los Santos, okay?”

Sasha's jaw ticked but she didn't say anything, she just walked away towards the driveway—barely able to keep her emotions in check. Charlotte sighed heavily, “I'm sorry about her, Aunt Trish...she's...Sasha isn't the best version of herself when she's emotional like this.”

Trish smiled, blinking away her own tears, “I know, you too if I remember correctly...are you alright, Charlotte?”

Charlotte shrugged, “I will be...it hurts but I also feel free at the same time. If that makes any sense?”

“It does,” Trish reassured her oldest niece with a soft smile, “Please call me when you guys get home safely? I don't want it to be another year until we see each other again...please.”

“Oh,” Charlotte blushed, thankfully it was dark out so Trish didn't see it, “I don't have your number but here...” Charlotte fished a business card from her jacket pocket and handed it over, “I scribbled my number on the back, I'll get you Sasha's later but we should probably get going.”

Trish carefully put the card away in her pocket and hugged Charlotte one more time, “I love you, and tell your sister that for me one more time, okay?”

“I will...um, will you be okay?”

Trish waved away Charlotte's concern with a well practiced smile, “I'll be fine, sweetheart. Go ahead, drive safe. I'll be calling you soon, and who knows, maybe I'll visit?”

Charlotte smiled brightly, the first genuine smile she's shown all night before she jogged off the gazebo and across the field towards the driveway where Sasha was waiting in her SUV. Trish stood by the lake until the tail lights disappeared through the thickness of the trees and she turned her attention back to the Flair Mansion, and she could see her lovely sister standing in the upstairs window, watching her. Trish sighed heavily and steeled her nerves for a very long night and a very long overdue conversation.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We stan family drama.
> 
> -Sith


	7. Hot Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own anything GTA or WWE related.

* * *

It's been three days since Becky contacted Carmella about hanging out...really about a job, Becky quickly realized how bad of an idea it was. And spontaneous. Becky's current situation was a slap in the face of just how spontaneity wasn't her friend. Becky took a stuttering deep breath as she tried to get comfortable in the backseat of Corey and Carmella's cutlass. Corey being the driver and Carmella's heavily tatted boyfriend that may or may not have made Becky's skin crawl when they first met a few days ago.

He had wandering eyes and Becky almost decked him when his eyes lingered a little too far below the collar for her taste—but Becky didn't think that would've been such a great idea considering that Corey had obviously been packing that day.

Becky shifted again, wincing when the back of her shirt was now sticking to her spine...as well as a small seat spring. Corey's car didn't have air conditioning so they had to ride with the windows cracked. Cracked—not all the way down because apparently Corey was paranoid and he didn't like too many people seeing him when he was out and about. It raised a lot of red flags for Becky immediately but it was far too late to back out of the shit now.

On top of them not having any air conditioning, the cutlass was loud—but it wasn't modified to be loud, it was just raggedy and Becky was sure that she was going to die from carbon monoxide. It was a nightmare. Becky smiled a little bit...Sasha would've gotten hives in a car like this. _Ugh._ Becky mentally slapped herself, that fucking troll was still plaguing her mind. But the further that Corey drove them into the city, the louder Sasha's voice became in her head about other people more than willing to put a bullet in her head for a lot less than what Sasha had to put up with when they were together.

Not to mention her backseat buddy who was slouching against the wall of the car and leering in Becky's direction without attempting to be discreet about it. Becky was grateful that Carmella was in the car with them, because she sure as hell wasn't going to let herself get caught alone with this asshole. His style was way too eccentric, and he didn't have nearly as much tattoos as Corey but it was enough, and while his beard was dark...his hair that was in a messy man bun was beyond bleached. It was practically white. In Becky's opinion, this guy was a walking STD.

“Hey, Enzo,” Corey turned down the radio as they were finally nearing their destination—Vespucci Beach for their first stop, “You sure this dude cool? I don't want no shit man.”

“He's cool man,” Enzo winked at Becky then looked at Carmella who gave him a disgusted sneer before she turned around in her seat, “Guy knows his shit, he's runnin' with the big dogs...so be cool, aight?”

Corey mumbled something under his breath but that was the end of that conversation. Thankfully, the drive only lasted for another five minutes and they were finally out of that damn death trap. As usual, Vespucci beach was packed and there were half naked bodies everywhere. Becky had little interest but she was thankful that Enzo had his eyes on other women now and off of her. A little ways across the parking lot, near the tattoo shop—Becky spotted a familiar all red Hummer. The same one she saw the night that she met Sasha. Becky didn't have time to ponder that coincidence because Carmella was tugging her along.

“You okay, girl? Not getting cold feet are you?”

“She better not,” Corey sneered over his shoulder at them, eyes narrowing.

“Oi, what the hell are we even doin'?” Becky asked, tired of the smoke and mirrors.

“You'll see, baby.” Enzo snickered making Becky roll her eyes, then he gestured to something up ahead, “Up there, man.”

_Smoke In The Water..._ the most popular weed dispensary on Vespucci beach...if not the entire city. Becky didn't know shit about marijuana but she knew about this place through the grapevine at her old job.

Becky wasn't sure what she expected when they entered the shop but it definitely wasn't this. The floors were wood and very clean with a distinct pinesol smell, the shelves were highly organized as well as the display cases around the shop. There was faint smell of weed lingering in the air as well, but that was to be expected. There wasn't a heavy cloud of smoke and the lighting was bright. Everything was also locked away behind a thick glass and Becky had to respect whoever owned this shop. They were wise and clearly knew how a business was supposed to look like, no matter the market.

“Holy shit,” Carmella whistled, eyes wandering around the shop—clearly she hasn't been inside of this shop either.

Corey just grunted, looking completely unimpressed with everything, “Whatever, where's this guy, Enzo?”

“Welcome bro's! And uh, bra's...” everyone turned towards the back of the shop where a man came out of the back room that read 'off limits'. He was definitely a surfer type, long dirty blonde hair that was just past his broad muscular shoulders—the way he talked most definitely gave it away. When he came around the counter, revealing that he was wearing no shoes, it definitely sealed the theory that he was just some stoner surfer living his life in a weed shop.

“So, what can I do for ya?”

Corey looked at Enzo as if to say _seriously? Please don't tell me this is the guy._ Enzo smirked at the surfer and dabbed him up, “How ya doin' bro?”

“Ah, business is movin' y'know...new crew man?”

Enzo looked at them and shrugged, then pointed to Corey, “Eh, my guy wants to buy a couple of strands and uh...talk about that thing.”

Surfer looked at Corey and seemed to size him up, and for a few seconds Becky was sure that something bad was about to happen, especially when Carmella was looking a little worried but before anything could go off. The surfer smiled and started laughing, “Names Matt, bro.”

Corey ignored his hand, and stuffed his hands in his pockets, “Corey. Uh, got somewhere we can talk?”

Matt took a step back, still smiling but the red flags were going off in Becky's head again. _Ding._ Becky turned slightly and saw someone entering the shop, a man wearing a tacky pink suit that looked oddly perfect on him. He looked very familiar but Becky's mind was about to go into overdrive when she saw him lock the door and lean back against it—and Becky saw the gun inside of his jacket. _Oh fuck, I'm about to die. I'm about to die with these clowns. Fuckfuckfuckfuck!_

“Hey, man!” Corey grabbed Carmella and pulled her in front of him, “The fucks goin' on?!”

Matt chuckled, raising his hands, “Sorry bro...y'all been playing in The Boss's territory too long without paying the percentage. She's here to collect.”

Enzo visibly paled, “Listen man, w-what...okay, I'll pay you whatever ya want to let me outta here. I'm just a contact man!”

Before any could move, the backroom door opened, “Funny you should say that...where's the money that you owe me?”

If Becky wasn't wishing for it before...she was most definitely wishing that she thought this through and that a black hole would somehow pop up to swallow her whole. She would know that voice anywhere.

Becky couldn't take her eyes off of her if she tried but in her defense, she wasn't trying very hard. Sasha was a sight in that tiger print bodysuit that was missing a whole leg sleeve, her hair was flawlessly straight and those heels. Jesus, Becky almost forgot how to breathe.

“All yours Boss,” Matt said still grinning like an idiot.

Sasha opened her mouth but stopped when her eyes finally landed on Becky. The look Becky received made her blood run cold for a split second, and Sasha just smiled, “It seems that we all have a little explaining to do.” Sasha looked past them and gave a slight nod. Everything happened so fast that Becky didn't even have to think. She was hit from behind and she hit the ground hard, her forehead bouncing off of the wood floor and she was pretty sure she bit the hell out of her tongue.

Becky heard Carmella screaming above her and there was grunting and loud swearing. Becky pushed herself away from the noise, her head was throbbing and with the blood rushing in her ears—she failed to notice the tale of high heels tracking her every move. Until Sasha was right on top of her with a hand in her hair painfully tight, and Sasha wasn't gentle when she forced Becky's head back so that she could whisper hotly in her ear, “I warned you, Becky.”

* * *

_Downtown Los Santos..._

Charlotte cracked her neck as softly as she could to avoid making the cramp worse than it already was. It has been a very long three days for her and Sasha since they've left Bullworth like a bat out of hell after that rather eventful family dinner—it cut both of them deeper than either of them truly expected. The ride back home had been a very quiet one, expect for the few times Sasha sat curled up in the passenger's seat, trying to mask the sounds of her crying. It had taken everything in Charlotte's power to keep from pulling over and holding her—she knew that Sasha wasn't in the mood for that. An emotional Sasha was a very mercurial Sasha, so Charlotte let her be.

Sasha has also been staying with Charlotte for the last three days, neither one of them wanted to be alone. Two days ago, Charlotte had gotten the call from a Bullworth banker...they'd been cut off financially, and inheritance that Ric had planned to leave them was gone as well. And the banker had the audacity to tell Charlotte to ask her to pass the message to her sister since she refused to accept any calls with the Bullworth area code (big surprise there).

Between Charlotte paying high rise living rent, and all the amenities that came with it, she was forced to purchase a business venture located in West Vinewood. It was a club by the name of Tequi-La-La, a pretty popular nightclub that celebrities and socialites frequented quite often. The three story club never had any bad press and it was organized. Charlotte has had her eye on it for a while, but with certain circumstances arising in the last two weeks—she was hesitant about purchasing it. But after a talk with Sasha, and after an entire night of calculating the net worth via earnings, costs and risk...Charlotte purchased the club for two million dollars. In return, they'd be getting payments of twenty-five grand back... _a week._ If Sasha stuck with their plan...they'd get their money back in a year. Maybe less.

But that only solved their long term issue...their short term issue became even more pressing. They were no longer millionaires, now sitting at eight hundred thousand dollars. They were in trouble, deep trouble.

“Fuck,” Charlotte sighed heavily, pouring herself another glass of scotch as she stared at the numbers in front of her on her laptop. She had Naomi fielding all of her calls for the day until she figured this out.

Currently, Sasha was out in the streets with Matt and Mojo, collecting money from the shit-bags that owed them for a very long time now. Charlotte was frustrated because she knew how nasty that job could be and while she hated putting her sister in harms way with such mediocre work. Sasha needed a distraction from the mess that was their personal lives and she needed to focus on their business. Hell, their livelihood because it was at serious risk. Not to mention this mysterious new player that was in the city. They couldn't afford to be caught slipping...literally.

Charlotte had an idea...but it was one that she wasn't so fond of. In fact she was against it all the way, but the money in that business was fast as it was deadly. And if the FIB and the IAA weren't already on their asses...they would be soon. Sasha was very much against the idea, but Charlotte knew that they didn't have a choice anymore. Their empire was starting to crumble, and they needed to fix it before anyone else caught onto their problem.

Charlotte reached for her cellphone and scrolled through her contacts until she found who she was looking for. Charlotte was staring so hard at her phone, deep in thought she had noticed that her office door being pushed open until gentle knocking nearly had her jumping out of her skin. Charlotte looked up, ready to chastise Naomi for disturbing her when she asked not to be but quickly stopped herself when she saw who was standing next to her looking around at her lavish office with awe.

_Oh fuck..._ Charlotte had completely forgotten that she had come to Los Santos today for a couple of days before she had to fly back to Vice City, and they were having lunch today. All three of them. _Sasha where the fuck are you?!_

“Sorry, Ms. Flair, I know that you asked not to be disturbed but—”

“No, no, it's totally fine Naomi, thank you.” Charlotte quickly got out of her seat and came around her desk—crossing her office with long strides to hug her Aunt while Naomi quietly left the two alone and shut the door softly behind her. “Hi.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” Trish smiled wide, hugging Charlotte back, “I hope I'm not interrupting anything, I can always come back later, Charlotte?”

Charlotte sighed, shaking her head, “No, I needed to take a break, I've been sitting at that desk for hours.” and she wasn't lying, she needed a welcomed distraction. From those daunting numbers, a horrible decision making process and the fact that Sasha hadn't checked in with her for two hours now. Charlotte led her Aunt to her desk, and waited until she got comfortable before sitting back down herself.

Trish looked at the mess of papers on Charlotte's desk, raising an eyebrow at all of the equations and scribbles she saw on the papers as Charlotte frantically tried to clean it up and Trish raised an eyebrow at the liquor sitting next to the laptop. “Bad day?”

Charlotte blushed, scratching her cheek, “Uh, yeah, numbers gone wrong and it's a mess trying to fix. But it's okay, I'll do it later...” Charlotte made a show of checking her watch, feeling a bead of sweat on her eyebrow, “Sasha's running some meetings outside the office today, but she should be on her way. I'm sorry about losing track of time and—”

Trish smiled, waving away Charlotte's unnecessary apology, “Charlotte, honey, it's fine...it's the middle of the week, I understand. Thank _you_ for taking the time out of your obviously busy day to entertain your old Aunt.”

Charlotte scoffed, “You're far from old, trust me. Honestly, I hope I age as well as you when I get older.”

“You will, trust me. Good genes,” Trish winked, then she took a small breath and gestured around Charlotte's office, “You know when I googled this building, I expected fancy but _wow._ Those pictures don't do this office justice, this is...I honestly have no words. You have no idea how proud I am to know that my niece works here. Both of you.”

Charlotte's blush deepened, and she didn't bother to inform Trish that everyone had to design their own office from the booklets they were given before purchasing.

“How are you, Charlotte? Really?” Trish's tone softened and her eyes were a little warmer if that was even possible, and Charlotte couldn't for the life of her figure out how such a sweet woman like her be related to a person like Michelle, or her and Sasha for that matter since they were monsters in their own right. Charlotte didn't think it was fair that Trish would be stuck being family with people like them.

“Um, I'm okay...I've been too busy to really sit down and think about it. Though...Heyman was very quick to call and inform us that we've been cut out of everything.” Charlotte exhaled heavily, her temple throbbing. Charlotte picked up her glass but she didn't drink it, she was staring down into the dark liquid, “It's...it's not even about the money. They're trying to make us conform into the image that they've spun of us and the only way they can do that is by cutting the money flow.”

Trish leaned forward in her seat, “Charlotte, if you or Sasha ever need _anything_ I'm here, okay? I'm only a phone call away. Okay?”

Charlotte set her glass down, opting not to finish it off and sniffled lightly, “Okay.”

Trish sighed sadly, “I'm so sorry, honey.”

Charlotte looked at Trish, confused as to why she was apologizing when she's done absolutely nothing wrong, “What for?”

“I'm sorry that I...wasn't um,” Trish tripped over her words, further sparking Charlotte's curiosity, “I'm just...my biggest regret is that I wasn't around a lot when you girls grew up. I wasn't around like I wanted to be...how I _needed_ to be. I didn't try hard enough and for that I am truly sorry, honey.” Charlotte's eyebrows furrowed, confused.

“Our...” Charlotte stopped herself from saying ' _our parents',_ “Ric and Michelle were never the nicest people, but they especially seem to hate you Aunt Trish...I don't mean to open up old wounds, but do you mind telling me why? Since we're on the topic of those asshats? Does it have anything to do with Sasha and I?”

_So perceptive,_ Trish smiled as she looked down, her smile not reaching her eyes, “It has everything to do with you and Sasha.”

Charlotte's eyes narrowed considerably, “What—”

Charlotte's office door slammed open, making both her and Trish jump in their seats and Charlotte's first instinct was to go for the gun beneath her desk with the way that Sasha came in like she was about to rob the place. Of course her sister was fashionably late and oblivious to the company they had.

“I don't care, Randy!If I find a hair messed on her head, you'll be missing yours! You _and_ Bianca!” Sasha snarled into the phone before she hung up and Charlotte could've shot her on the spot. Not only was Sasha threatening one of her crew members over the phone, quite loudly, she hadn't changed clothes!Charlotte cleared her throat roughly, and Sasha looked over. Then did a double take, her Boss mask falling completely and Charlotte would've snickered at her sister blushing if she wasn't so fed up with her at this point, “Oh, uh...uh...hi? Aunt Trish? You're early.”

Trish, to her credit, didn't comment on Sasha's colorful phone conversation but her eyes were narrowed and she was apprasingly Sasha's tiger print outfit...what was left of it anyway, and she didn't seem too pleased. “No, you're late, but what the hell are you wearing, Sasha?”

“Yeah, Sasha,” Charlotte leaned back in her chair, smirking openly now that Trish wasn't looking at her, “What the hell _are_ you wearing?”

* * *

Sasha liked to think that she ran shit and that no one told her what to do, not even her skeezy ass parents but when her Aunt Trish told her to change clothes...Sasha changed clothes. And she managed to flip Charlotte off undetected because her older sister wasn't making things any better. The only clothes that Sasha had in the office closet was a pair of sweatpants, Nike slides and a tank top. A little too simple for her taste

to be out of in public but she'd deal with it—it wasn't as if she could've fit Charlotte's clothes. The bitch was built like an Amazon...Sasha would probably drown in one of Charlotte's socks.

They were packed in Charlotte's SUV, with Trish in the passengers seat and Sasha in the backseat—sulking. They were on their way to some new steak resturant that Charlotte wanted to try—no doubt that Sasha was wholeheartedly underdressed but she didn't care, she was starving. After collecting debts all throughout the city, Sasha could eat. Everything had been going flawlessly until the last debt collection. Sasha had been expecting the three stooges minus a very stupid Irishwoman determined to get herself killed.

Sasha had all four of those idiots seperated at a certain warehouse near the junkyard just outside of the city. They were no doubt going to die...but no before she got her money. But Becky? Becky was hers...once Sasha figured out what the hell she was going to do with her. Bianca was a little too happy seeing the redhead. Becky was an added stress that Sasha really did not need in her life and killing her would be the simpliest solution.

In the front seat, the two blonde women also had a lot on their minds. Though Charlotte was still carefully analyzing the conversation that she and Trish were having before Sasha arrived—there was nothing noticeably wrong with the conversation but it was off. It set off alarm bells in Charlotte's head, and those were the same alarm bells that Charlotte never ignored. They saved her and Sasha's life too many times. Something was up and she was determined to get to the bottom of it...she just hoped that she wouldn't have to cut out the last of their family that only ever gave a shit about either of them. Not for her sake...but Sasha's.

“I guess the traffic here is about the same as it is in Vice City.” Trish said after a while when the radio went to commercial.

Charlotte only hummed in response, but Sasha leaned forward between both of the front seats with a warm but tired smile, placing her hands on both women's shoulder's, “Yeah, how _is_ it in Vice City? I bet the night life is great!”

Trish raised an eyebrow, looking at Sasha, “You've never been?”

Sasha made a noise, rolling her eyes slightly, “Only for business...Charlie is a buzz kill and she doesn't believe in fun on business trips.”

Charlotte scoffed, “Sasha your idea of fun will land us in jail.”

“Yeah, if we get caught.” Sasha sighed and leaned her head on the shoulder of Trish's seat, “So, um, how's life Aunt Trish? We didn't really get a chance to talk last time.”

“Well,” Trish reached up and held Sasha's hand that was on her shoulder, kissing her knuckles gently. And Charlotte frowned slighty as she caught the gesture from the corner of her eye...normally she wouldn't have blinked twice but she was a little peeved from earlier and she suspected that she would continue to feel that way until she got to the bottom of it. Without telling her sister this time, “Being a nurse takes up most of my time, and the free time that I do have is taken up by yoga.”

Sasha scrunched her nose up at that, “Yoga?”

“Yep.” Trish smirked, not missing Sasha's look—or Charlotte's for that matter, “I know that you both prefer crossfit and lifting, but yoga helps reduces stress on your mind and body—makes for clearer thinking as well. You should try it, before you judge.”

Sasha made a face as she sat back in her seat and fixed her seatbelt with a yawn, Charlotte glanced at her via rearview mirror then at Trish who was content to look out of the window. Charlotte did this several times, it was kind of scary how alike those two were and she was surprised that she hadn't spotted it sooner. Sasha and Trish had the same features...too similar especially if Michelle didn't carry Sasha. Charlotte's headache was preventing her from trying to solve that equation but her alarms were ringing louder.

“Charlotte, honey, are you alright?”

“No,” Charlotte answered honestly, “But I will be once I eat.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my best chapter, but eh. All mistakes are my own, sorry. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> -Sith


	8. Playing With The Devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own anything GTA or WWE related.

* * *

Becky was not having the best day...in fact, this could possibly be the worst day of her life and in hindsight, she's been saying that  _ way  _ too many times this month. This day though seriously took the cake for being the absolute worst, because this time Becky was positive that she was going to die. There was no doubt about it—Becky wanted to do it herself for being such a fucking fool. She'd been seeking out the very woman who refused to let her explain anything and had that overgrown gorilla in a pink suit knock her out. Becky hadn't taken Sasha's warning seriously—now she was tied to a very uncomfortable chair with a rag stuffed in her mouth. Becky wasn't even sure if the damn thing was clean, it smelled kind of funny but it was shoved so far into her mouth she couldn't be entirely too sure.

She was in a four by four room with one door, Becky figured that was the only way in or out of this room. She couldn't see that well behind her but she saw an edge of a table and a pair of pliers that looked like they'd seen better days. She could only imagine what else was on the table behind her. The room she was in seemed like a boiler room or a storage room of sorts...there was a dead rat in the corner by the door. It was more than a little gross. Becky could hear yelling and screaming a distance away but knowing that it was going to be her soon...it was like those screams and yells were right next to her. She could only imagine what was happening to Enzo, Carmella and Corey. She had no idea what they'd done to piss off Sasha, or The Boss as the ones who were with her referred to her as, but Becky knew that Sasha was unhappy with her for an entirely different reason.

She'd like to think that is why she wasn't being tortured or being beaten on, but the ache on the back of her head told her otherwise. Sasha was going to deliver the blow to end Becky's life herself. It wasn't as if there was going to be anyone missing her too badly anyway.

Becky let her head fall forward, tired of holding it up—she was getting a neck cramp. Becky wasn't sure how much longer she was in the room when the door creaked open, slamming against the wall harshly. Becky startled, having not realized that she'd fallen asleep. How she could've possibly dozed off in a situation like this, Becky would never know.

She straightened up in her chair, pulling uselessly at her restraints as Bianca came into the room followed by a bronze skinned man with sleeve tattoos on either arm. But he didn't come further into the room, he just stood by the door with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Remember what The Boss said.” he told Bianca gruffly, sounding as if he had better things to do and judging by the way he longingly glanced at the smart watch on his wrist—he did. Becky tore her eyes away from him and to the most obvious threat; her fucking neighbor. Bianca stopped directly in front of her with her hands on her hips, chewing on her gum as if it were the last piece in the city.

“I thought we was gonna be done with your ass after the bust downtown. See...” Bianca laughed, picking up her ridiculously long braid that went past her waist and began to twirl it, “When I heard you got ya ass beat for petty change, I couldn't believe that shit! Like, what the fuck? Now, we catch ya lil' punk ass workin' with a bunch of nobodies tryin' to take food off of our table!” Bianca took a deep breath, holding out both of her hands as if she was mentally telling herself to calm down and Becky raised an eyebrow. If she wasn't gagged within an inch of her life, she would've been adding her own two cents.

Bianca flipped her braid over her shoulder and came closer to Becky. She roughly took Becky's face in her hands and leaned forward until their noses were touching.

“Hey,” the tattooed brute by the door warned, “Don't do anything stupid, or Boss will have both of our heads!”

Bianca ignored him, her eyes burning into Becky's and her voice was low, “You should be dead, bitch. I don't know why but Sasha's gone half-witted for you...count your gold coins while you still can, Lucky Charms.”

Bianca held Becky's face a while longer before mushing her face and taking a step back. Bianca spat her gum out and walked away, leaving behind a very angry and confused Becky. She watched the two leave the room and slam the door shut behind themselves. Becky had no idea what she'd ever done to Bianca to evoke such a reaction especially when Bianca was the one who took her to that damn rally in the first place and then abandoned her. Bianca was acting as if Becky threatened something in her life, but for the life of her—Becky had no idea what the hell it was that she was threatening.

* * *

Randy sighed heavily, throwing down his hand and glared down at the cards on the table then at Bianca who was too smug for his liking as she took the rest of his money. They were currently in the 'break room' of the warehouse that used to be a meat factory or something, neither of them could really remember what this place used to be. It was near the LS junkyard and far enough away from civilization, that's all they cared about. The last thing any of them needed was for some idiot calling the cops because they heard screaming.

“I thought you said you haven't played poker in months.”

Bianca rolled her eyes, “I didn't, doesn't mean I forgot how to play, dumbass. Your turn to shuffle.”

Randy began collecting the cards and shuffled, “Any word from Sasha yet? I was supposed to meet up with someone an hour ago.”

Bianca raised an eyebrow at him, but she didn't ask—she didn't need to. Randy was a man-whore, and it wasn't really a secret that he often left early or showed up late for one of his little hoes. Bianca suspected that he was a sugar daddy of sorts but she had no proof to blackmail him with, not yet. “You can go, I'll be aight here on my own.”

Randy gave her a look, “I ain't leaving you here alone with red until Boss gets here.”

Bianca looked up from her hand, glaring, “You don't trust me?”

Randy scoffed, setting the deck down in the middle of the table between them next to the money, “After what I saw in there an hour ago? Fuck no. What's the matter, Belair? You jealous?”

“Jealous of what?”

Both Randy and Bianca jumped, both of their guns drawn and pointed towards the door until they realized just who it was, and they should've known better but it was better to be safe than sorry. Randy and Bianca put away their guns. Sasha looked on curiously as Bianca cleaned up the mess on the table before turning her attention to Randy as he approached her. Sasha stepped out into the corridor with him, intending to walk him down to the exit while he gave his final report.

“Did you get anything useful from them?”

Randy rubbed the back of his head, nodding, “Yeah, but you probably aren't gonna like what I have to say too much.”

“The longer you stall, the more tempted I am to shoot you. Just tell me.”

Randy sighed heavily, he had stopped walking forcing Sasha to do the same. She had her arms crossed, impatiently waiting. And Randy took the moment to appreciate seeing his Boss in regular clothing and not those elaborate but oh so sexy (he'd never be unprofessional and tell her that to her face—he valued his nuts too much) outfits she loved so much. It was such a rare sight that he couldn't help but try and commit it to his memory.

“Begging for his life, Corey gave away a job that he was planning to score right under our noses. Found the blueprints in the trunk of his shitty car, some jewelry store heist in Vinewood. A five million dollar take. I had Sin Cara and Seth check it out.”

“And?”

“It's legit. Corey and Enzo are both too stupid to plan something like this, but they're reckless enough to follow through with it.”

“And they had zero intentions of paying their dues to me. Interesting,” Sasha smirked, “Keep digging and see what turns up. I want to know who they've been talking to because it's not me. I hope they're already dead.”

Randy smirked, “They are. You think someone is trying to move in on us?”

Sasha contemplated on whether she wanted to answer or not, but Randy has been with her for two years now—despite his nasty habits, he was trusted until he proved otherwise, but Sasha also didn't want to say too much until she could figure things out and make sense of everything. “I'll call you.”

Randy studied her for a moment then nodded, and proceeded towards the exit but stopped before he opened the door and turned back to Sasha, “I wouldn't let Bianca get too close to Red, might end badly.”

Sasha sighed, her entire demeanor remaining neutral until the door closed behind him. With a lot on her mind, Sasha made her way back to the break room where Bianca was waiting for her and it seemed as if the other woman had a lot on her mind too. Sasha sighed again, she really didn't feel like dealing with this. She'd just enjoyed a nice lunch and time out with her sister and their Aunt, and for the first time in ages Sasha could figuratively let her hair down and enjoy herself.

“You seem to have something on your mind, Bianca.”

Bianca popped a bubble, and shrugged, “What's with you and this redhead?”

“My business.” was all Sasha said, not appreciating Bianca's tone and Sasha knew that Bianca was aware that she wouldn't hesitate to put her in her place—painfully. “Anything else?”

“You're being reckless with her, Sasha, and you know it. You should've gotten rid of her that night, she knows too much.”

“She knows too much  _ now.” _ Sasha corrected acidly, “She didn't know a damn thing before, and if I remember this right,  _ you're  _ the one that brought her to the races. I was cleaning up your mess Bianca,  _ again. _ So I'd choose your next words carefully, Bianca, you're becoming a liability. And I hate liabilities.”

Bianca smacked her lips, shaking her head, “What's so special about her? You risked  _ everything  _ by letting her live, Sasha. With the IAA and the FIB on our asses, that was a loose end that could've bit us all in the ass.”

Sasha highly doubted that it would've been a bad situation, but Becky hardly knew enough to bring a full scale federal attack down on their heads. The most that Becky could've done was identify Bianca and Sasha. Which wouldn't have been a big deal, the IAA and FIB already knew who they were. And they already knew that she and Bianca participated in street racing but they still wouldn't be able to connect either of them to any other crimes.

“I doubt it.”

“You doubt it,” Bianca rolled her eyes, “Whatever, what are you goin' to do with homegirl now? She's knows too much  _ now,  _ don't she?”

“I'll handle it, go home, Bianca.” Sasha was calm in the face of Bianca's growing anger and frustrations. The real source of those emotions, Sasha hadn't quite figured out just yet but she was sure she would very soon as Bianca came around the table.

She didn't stop until she was directly in front of Sasha, towering over her. Sasha continued to step back until her back was pressed against the wall, and Bianca followed as she predicted. Bianca placed her hands on the wall behind her, trapping her but they both knew that if The Boss didn't want to be trapped...she wouldn't be.

“Let me handle her, Sasha. Like you said, this is my mess. Let me clean it up then.”

Sasha chuckled, pushing a purple lock of hair out of her face, “I'm not doing this with you, Bianca. What the fuck is your problem? Are you doubting me now? Do you want to take me out now? Am I getting too soft for you, is that what you're trying to tell me?”

“Yeah, I mean no,  _ goddammit  _ Sasha just—”

Bianca didn't have a chance to realize her grave mistake until it was entirely too late. Sasha had her in a choke-hold and Sasha rode Bianca all the way down to the floor, tightening her grip. Bianca wheezed, trying to break the damn hold but she, in her cockiness, forgot how fast and just how  _ strong  _ Sasha really was despite her stature.

“Listen to me carefully, Bianca.” Sasha grunted, tightening her arm around Bianca's neck, making sure that her bicep was crushing her throat, “How I handle my business is just that,  _ my  _ business. Do not become a liability I have to handle.”

Sasha kept the guillotine choke in place until she felt Bianca beginning to fade then she let it go. Bianca wheezed and coughed, reaching up to massage her sore throat knowing that the tender skin would bruise very soon. Knee's still on either side of Bianca's rib cage, Sasha glared down at Bianca.

“I don't want to have this conversation again, Bianca. Do you understand?”

Bianca, still unable to talk, just nodded her head. She wanted to shove Sasha off of her, but even through her cloud of wounded pride Bianca knew how much of a fatal mistake that would've been.

“Uh, I'm not interrupting anything am I?” Sasha looked over her shoulder and Matt gave her a hesitant smile, and held up a bag full of fast food—he knew how volatile Sasha could get and he was mildly surprised that she turned that tendency on Bianca. Matt was even more surprised that Bianca survived the encounter. “All good, bro?”

“All good, bro?” Sasha looked down at Bianca, repeating Matt's question mockingly but her eyes held a warning that Bianca knew better than to trifle with.

“Whatever.”

Sasha raised an eyebrow but finally freed Bianca by getting back to her feet and stepping aside. Bianca was a little woozy once she stood up as well, but she slapped away Matt's hand when he tried to help steady her.

“Alright, alright,” he laughed, knowing that his best friend did a number on her. Matt moved around the pair to go sit at the table, he was too hungry to be bothered with their antics.

Bianca looked at Sasha, still rubbing her throat gingerly, “I hope you know what you doin'. I'll be back later, need some fresh air.”

Sasha didn't say anything, but she was still tense as she watched Bianca leave the break room and she didn't relax until she heard the warehouse side door slam close, the sound echoing through the empty corridors.

“What was that about?” Matt asked curiously, eyes focused on the nachos in front of him.

“I don't know, nothing, everything? We're all a little on edge lately, I guess.”

Matt scoffed, “You sure it doesn't have anything to do with that redhead?” when Sasha gave him a look, Matt knew he hit the nail on the head, “Who is this chick anyway?”

Sasha sighed as she sat down and then stole Matt's soda, “I don't know.”

“Uh, okay...so why do you wanna keep her alive then?”

“I don't know.”

“What do you know?”

“I don't—” Sasha closed her eyes tightly, and shook her head. She was too tired for all of this shit. Between the family issues lingering in the back of her mind, hunting down people who've never crossed her and Charlotte, then her sister acting weird the entire time they were having lunch and now Bianca. Sasha just wanted to sleep for a day or two. Was that too much to ask for? Apparently. “I'll be back.”

Matt just grunted, mouth too full of nachos to answer. Or complain as Sasha walked out of the room with his drink still in her hand.

* * *

Becky tiredly raised her head when the door creaked open again, though it didn't slam against the wall like she expected it to. Becky jolted slightly when she saw that it was the exact person that she was waiting for. And she looked far different than Becky has seen before. No leather pants or elaborate outfits. Her hair was even up in a messy bun with a few strands loose here and there. It was a good look for Sasha, she looked beautiful. Well, who was Becky kidding...Sasha was always beautiful. But this beautiful side of her wasn't as harsh as the other one, it was softer...easier to look at without feeling a deep seeded feeling of envy stemmed from low self-esteem. Sasha was so goddamn beautiful she was hard to look at.  _ Go figure. _

“Smmfh,” Becky tried to speak but somehow she forgot that she had a rag nearly rammed down her throat. Sasha closed the door behind her and slid the lock into place, and Becky wasn't sure how she felt about this. She watched as Sasha came further into the room until she was standing directly in front of Becky, holding a large Cluckin' Bell cup. Becky didn't think Sasha would be the type to actually eat there, in all honesty.

Sasha stared down at Becky blankly, even her eyes didn't give anything away, “I shouldn't even be standing here with you right now, Becky, but I am.”

“Smmfh! Pfft!” Becky grunted breathing heavily through her nose as she began pulling at her restraints to get her point across that she had something to say but Sasha didn't even blink.

“I don't know what I was thinking,” Sasha continued as if Becky didn't do anything, still staring down at her coldly, “I figured if I scared you a little bit and gave you some money to help you out, that'd be it. Come to find out, I wasted my goddamn time. I thought you were smarter than that Becky, but I guess not. Not only that, but I catch you with a bunch of even more stupid people who were trying to fuck me over...” Sasha said the last bit quietly and Becky's blood ran cold for a split second. “I don't like being made a fool of, Rebecca Quin Lynch.”

Becky flinched when Sasha reached behind her and pulled out that silver Desert Eagle that she admired before, Becky started screaming behind the rag in her mouth, tears streaming down her eyes. Was she not going to be given a chance to explain?! She didn't want to fucking die goddamn it!  _ Sasha listen to me! I don't know them! I didn't know! No, fuck!  _ Becky screamed at the other woman, desperate for her to just hear her out first.

Sasha pulled the trigger slightly, not enough to drop the hammer but it was too close.  _ Too close, too close, too close. _

“Mmpfh! Mhm!mhm!” Becky shook her head frantically, trying to break her bonds now more than ever but it was too late.

Sasha listened to Becky's muffled cries, going in one ear and out the other. Sasha fixed her aim, and exhaled softly.

Down the hallway, Matt jumped slightly at the sound of a single shot thundering down the hallways from Sasha's beloved personal weapon.

* * *

Everything in the room was still, quiet though the walls were still ringing from the discharge. Hell, even Sasha's ears were still ringing. Slowly, she lowered her arm and shook her head. Sasha waited until the ringing in her ears stopped before she walked around the chair that held Becky's body and set her gun down on the table behind her next to all of the other creative weapons that Bianca laid out for her.  _ How thoughtful... _ Sasha smiled humorlessly,  _ but unnecessary. _

Sasha turned around, still holding the drink and she reached around to remove the rag from Becky's mouth. They wouldn't be needing that anymore.

“Yer fuckin' crazy...” Becky said with a slight stutter, her heart still pounding and she was almost positive that she'd be going deaf soon. “Ya could've killed us both ya dope! Firin' that goddamn thing so close! Fucks wrong wit ya!”

Sasha stood next to Becky, staring down at her blankly, “I wouldn't push it if I were you, Lynch. Here, drink. You're going to need it...you and I have a lot of talking to do.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the edit Nights!
> 
> Things are heating up, pt 2 will be up soon. Hope you guys enjoyed it, and the cliff hanger.
> 
> -Sith


	9. Fuck My Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own anything WWE or GTA related.

* * *

**_Previously..._ **

_ Sasha turned around, still holding the drink and she reached around to remove the rag from Becky's mouth. They wouldn't be needing that anymore. _

“ _ Yer fuckin' crazy...” Becky said with a slight stutter, her heart still pounding and she was almost positive that she'd be going deaf soon. “Ya could've killed us both ya dope! Firin' that goddamn thing so close! Fucks wrong wit ya!” _

_ Sasha stood next to Becky, staring down at her blankly, “I wouldn't push it if I were you, Lynch. Here, drink. You're going to need it...you and I have a lot of talking to do.” _

“How do I know ya ain't poison it?! Ya damn near shot me for nothin'!”

Sasha's stare turned into a hard glare as she brought the straw up to her lips and took a long sip. “If I wanted to kill you, dumbass, I would've just shot you.” Sasha tossed the cup aside, not caring about the contents spilling all over the dirty concrete floor, “If you weren't thirsty, you could've just said.”

“I can explain, Sasha...”

Sasha laughed, reaching behind her and picked up a hammer, “Please do before I get bored.”

Becky swallowed harshly, suddenly wishing for that drink now—but now it was just an empty cup, another decoration for the already trashy room she was stuck inside. Becky knew that she was in deep shit, even if Sasha didn't shoot her (yet) she knew she was still in trouble. Becky didn't know a goddamn thing, she didn't have anything to offer this woman in exchange for her life. Becky didn't have anything except her truth. And she hoped that it would be enough.

“I didn't know those dopes, okay?”

“Tsk, you're already off to a bad start.” Sasha paced in front of her, twirling the hammer in her hands like it was some sort of toy, and really, it very well could've been for the other woman.

“N-no,” Becky licked her dry lips, “I couldn't tell ya shit 'bout 'em or what they were doin', okay? Ya don't have to believe me but that's my truth.”

Sasha narrowed her eyes at the last statement, “And what exactly is your truth, Becky? Huh? How'd you end up from point 'a' to point 'b'?”

“I got fired from my job, 'kay? I decked my boss for tryin' to get a lil' cheeky with me and I can't go back there. I was just down on my luck when I saw ya that day.” Becky admitted, bravely meeting Sasha's gaze—common sense was telling Becky that she should just be begging for her life, begging and praying for a miracle but in the short amount of time that Becky has spent in Sasha's presence, however intense it may have been. She knew one thing. Sasha valued the truth. And that was all Becky had left. That was all she's ever had since she was a young girl.

“I uh...I saw ya car parked next to Ponytail's (Sasha snorted) and I was curious, y'know? I wanted that. I wanted to know what she did to live in that shit hole and drive somethin' like that. I mean,” Becky laughed breathlessly, rolling her eyes at herself, “I worked two dead end jobs and couldn't afford fuckin' groceries. Even with a shitty lil' discount they gave us. I wanted more...I needed it, so I asked her.”

“Asked  _ who _ ,” Sasha raised an eyebrow, she already knew who Becky asked but she wanted to hear it from her.

“Bianca,” Becky answered, licking her lips again, “I didn't mean any harm when I asked, Sasha, I didn't ..I didn't expect any of this...”

“But here we are. Poor little Irish girl living the city life...” Sasha mocked without sympathy, completely unmoved with what Becky just told her—she's heard it plenty of times and it wasn't about to make her lose any sleep, “Tell me something that I don't already know, Becky.”

Becky was quiet for a few minutes, before she decided to just lay herself bare—she was a dead woman anyway. She wanted at least one person in this rotten city to know who the hell Becky Lynch was. Even if it was her soon to be killer, “My father tried to kill my mom when I was eight years old in front of me and she made us pancakes the next mornin'.”

Sasha stopped pacing, clearly taken  _ way _ off guard with that statement and when she looked at Becky, the redhead was still looking at her with unshed tears that Becky was clearly holding back. Sasha didn't know how to respond to something like that—so she didn't. She wasn't expecting that. No one has ever told her some shit like that before while trying to convince her not to kill them and it made her uncomfortable.

“I was eight years old when I decided I wanted to run away.” Becky said, her accent thickening with emotion that she was barely keeping a lid on, “I don't have much of a family that'll miss me too much, or me them...moved around 'lot cause of his job in the army...never made any friends. I was that weird Irish kid with too many freckles and y'know what they say bout gingers havin' no souls.”

Sasha wanted to stop Becky, this isn't what she asked for but Sasha, clearly unnerved, couldn't get her mouth to work. It was as if her jaw was refusing the orders from her brain—forcing her to listen. She just stood in front of Becky who was tied to a damn chair, eyes now downcast towards the floor and her voice was somber and thick.

“My only goal in life was to get away from those people...no school, no friends, no job...nothin'...just me against the whole freakin' world. I was pretty stupid...guess I still am, huh?” Becky sighed heavily, laughing slightly, “I'm the Jack of all trades, and master of none...which is how ended up at some shitty grocery store in the biggest most fraud city this country's got to offer.”

Sasha remained silent, still processing the little bit of what Becky just laid out for her. Ultimately putting the ball in her court firmly. Becky resigned to death and Sasha...she  _ hated  _ it, and she refused to analyze why. So, she didn't. Sasha fell back on her old argument she once had with Becky before.

“If you continue down this path Becky, you  _ are  _ going to die.”

“I'm already dead, lass, don't ya get it?” Becky looked up at Sasha, eyes so open and vulnerable, Sasha almost looked away, “I ain't got shit to live for...nothin' to show for shit. Until I met you...and as psycho as ya are, lass, I felt my soul hummin'.”

Sasha's eyes narrowed, trying to hide how uncomfortable Becky was making her, “So your first instinct was to latch onto the first pair of criminals you knew? Real smart move, Lynch.”

“I was just lookin' for ya, Sasha. Ya didn't leave me much of a way to call ya back.”

_ Unbelievable. Idiot.  _ “Looking for me? Please.”

“I—”

“No!” Sasha threw the hammer aside, causing it to hit the far wall with enough force to chip the concrete, and Becky tilted her head backwards when Sasha approached her quickly, a sharp stiletto nail jabbed beneath her chin, and  _ fuck  _ did it hurt like hell “Stop. Why?!”

Becky's breath was a little ragged, “W-why what?”

“Why do you want in on this life so much, Becky?”

“I wanna...” Becky swallowed thickly, getting her bearings, “I wanna be somethin' more than what I am now. Good or bad, I wanna leave behind my footprints to prove that I fuckin' existed before I leave this world. I don't wan' any regrets...I wanna prove that I  _ can  _ be somethin', good or bad. When I called Carmella about doin' a job with Corey...I was hopin' that I found a way in so I could track ya down, lass. I...I know ya said you don't need me, but I...but I need this, I need you.”

“ _ Why?” _ Sasha pressed harshly, her hand now holding Becky's jaw as she was practically in Becky's lap now, both of them ignoring the groaning chair beneath their combined weight, threatening to collapse. But nothing else mattered to either of them right now.

“Why haven't ya killed me?”

Sasha's grip tightened painfully and Becky tried to snatch away but  _ damn _ if Sasha wasn't stronger than she looked. Sasha stared down into Becky's eyes, looking down at the tear streaks on her cheeks beneath her fingers and sighed harshly. Her minty breath washing over Becky's face heavily.

“I  _ should  _ kill you. You  _ deserve  _ to be killed for being so fucking stupid! But...” there was a glint in Sasha's brown eyes and Becky was positive that she needed to be afraid, “But you owe me money now, Lynch. And since your crew is dead, it's on you now.”

Becky's eyes widened, “They weren't my crew! Sasha, y'know this! I—”

“Half a million, with interest,” Sasha continued on as if Becky hadn't said a damn thing, “You're gonna owe me, Becky. You're gonna owe me the money and the time that they owed me. And since you're so green to all of this, I'll make you a deal. And I'd listen and think twice before you say no because for someone like you...coming up with half a million is a pipe dream. But if you stick with me...your debt will be paid off in no time...and maybe you'll even learn something.”

“What are your terms?”

“For every job that you do with me, I get a percentage. And no, I will not tell you what that percentage is. Deal?”

“With you or for you?”

Sasha raised an eyebrow questioningly, “ _ With _ me, Lynch.”

“Do I get to think 'bout this?”

“No.”

Becky pulled her head back and this time Sasha let her go, but she remained perched in Becky's lap as if she belonged there. “Half a million?”

“You get me my money, and I teach you how to survive. You wanna leave your mark? These are my terms.”

“...I'm in.”

Sasha smirked, reaching behind her back and pulling out a hunting blade from the holster on her back and she felt Becky tense beneath her but Sasha just leaned forward pressing their fronts together and Becky nearly forgot how to breath. She flinched as she felt the duct tape keeping her wrists to the legs of the chair being cut away swiftly, and instinctively brought her hands to her lap to rub away the soreness of her wrist from being held so long and tight.

Of course, with Sasha being so close, Becky could feel the tautness of her stomach beneath her tank top against her fingers but the warm feeling was brief because Sasha had slid off of her lap and put her knife away.

“Get yourself together and meet me down the hall.”

“Ya forgot my legs, lass.”

“Figure it out yourself, I'm not gonna be around to save you all the time Becky. Lesson number one.” Sasha said, walking towards the door.

Becky sat there still rubbing her wrists as she watched her leave but this time Sasha left the door wide open. Becky finally hunched over and began to tear at the duct tape around her ankles, “I'm so fuckin' screwed.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are my own!
> 
> We are finally Team BAE on the same page! Kinda, right track tho! Such a short chapter, but it was important.
> 
> -Sith


	10. Family Affairs Pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own anything GTA or WWE related.

* * *

**_Nearly forty-eight hours later..._ **

Charlotte was wide awake drinking her hot tea long before the sun rose over the city. She'd been sitting at her kitchen counter for the past two hours doing what she did best. Going over the numbers. Charlotte was losing sleep over this, she was stressed but it was manageable stress for now. They had solutions, one in particular that Charlotte was very reluctant about. She and Sasha talked about it, but they haven't really sat down to  _ really talk  _ about it. It was a big step—not even, for criminals, it was a massive career change. One that many don't come back from alive. That world was messy from what Charlotte could understand, always shifting—the rules never staying the same. It was too much of a slippery slope, but what other choice did they really have?

Several. But they weren't fast enough. Jobs took time to plan out, too much time—and Charlotte had way too much going on with her plate to afford that sort of time. Charlotte sighed,  _ time to run these fucking numbers again. _

Thirty more minutes had passed when she heard someone coming down the hallway, yawning loudly and Charlotte smiled to herself. She looked up right as Sasha entered her kitchen, her purple blueish hair looking like a birds nest, her sleep pants were a little crooked at the waist and she was missing a shirt but at least she had the decency to wear a sports bra since she wasn't at her own place. Not that Charlotte was complaining about Sasha being at her home, she enjoyed the company. It made living in the high rise penthouse a little less lonely.

“Good morning, Sasha.”

“Hi,” Sasha yawned again, heading straight for the refrigerator and grabbed a thing of yogurt and pulled out the container holding all of the green and red grapes. “You've been up since the ass crack of dawn, haven't you?”

“Yep.” Charlotte smiled softly, keeping her voice light as well—they weren't the only ones here right now and there was no sense in waking up their company at the moment, “One of us has to make sure that our empire doesn't crumble because of some bad decisions.”

Sasha's hands stilled from picking grapes from the veins, and she looked up...almost as if she were ready to argue with her sister, so early in the damn morning too, but to Charlotte's relief—and disbelief—Sasha backed down. “Yeah, I'm...tsk. I know. You said you had a job lined up, but I have one too...pays more.”

“How much more?” Charlotte wanted to ask if Sasha was sick, but she wasn't. If Sasha wasn't in the mood to argue, then neither was she. They didn't have the time for it anyway. Their combined energy needed to be focused on their more pressing issues at hand.

“Five million, jewelry store. It's not a lot, though, I know.”

“It would be a start,” Charlotte said thoughtfully, thinking...feeling a little more optimistic, just a little, “It'll give us a three million dollar boost, after we pay the crew of course, and with what we have now...” Charlotte quickly did the math in her head, “We'd roughly be back at four million, then with the night club bringing in about thirty thousand a week...”

“We'd be back above the water. Right?”

“Not good enough, but a start. So yes, we wouldn't be drowning.”

Sasha shook her head, going back to her light breakfast, “What's it gonna take for us to be billionaires?”

“We'd have to run the entire game.” Charlotte said softly, finishing off her tea and she pushed the mug across the counter but Sasha caught it before it could slid off and onto the floor, “We'd have to push everyone else out of the business, and maintain that hold.”

Sasha poured Charlotte more tea before passing the mug back to her older sister, contemplating her answer, “We run Los Santos though?”

“And yet, here we are. Broke as fuck.” Charlotte rolled her eyes, eyeing her sister wearily. There was so much that they needed to talk about, their family, their business, hell the little friends that they did actually have. Charlotte couldn't remember the last time that she and her sister got to sit down with each other and just talk. Have fun, be free without putting up a front in front of other people or discussing business. Charlotte really missed her little sister.

“Yeah, I know, but we'll bounce back though!” Sasha smiled, now mashing her grapes in her plain vanilla yogurt—completely missing the disgusted look on Charlotte's face, “Once we reclaim Los Santos, we can have at it with Liberty City and Vice City, maybe even Carcer!”

“That's a lot, even for us. Don't get greedy Sasha, we have to play this smart. Let's start with retaking back our own city before we decide to go ruin someone's day, okay?”

“Okay, okay.”

“Have you taken care of everything on the streets?”

“Yep.” Sasha hesitated momentarily but nodded, but it was too late—Charlotte saw it and raised an eyebrow, closing her laptop gently and she asked Sasha what it was that she was hiding, “I'm not hiding anything, Char.”

“What have you done, Sasha?”

“Nothing, fuck, it's like seven in the morning! Don't you have shit else to do but inquire about my life?”

Charlotte rolled her eyes, “It's seven in the morning, and you're being defensive about a simple question. Real convincing that you aren't hiding anything, Sasha. What is it? You better not have bought shit else Sasha or I swear to on everything I will beat the shit out of you?!”

“I didn't buy anything!” Sasha yelled, then immediately calmed down—and they both held their breaths, eyes glued to the hallway—listening for the sound of a door opening, but nothing came after a full minute. Sasha sighed heavily, and glared halfheartedly at her sister, “Give me some credit, asshole, I know we're tight, okay?”

“Then stop acting like a criminal and tell me what is that you did.”

“Bitch, we are criminals.”

“Sasha.”

“Charlotte.”

“ _ Sasha.” _

“I can't hear you. Blah blah blah...”

“Sasha Merce—”

“Okay! Jesus, not the government. I took on a new crew member.” Charlotte was quiet for a moment, staring at her sister—she wasn't sure if she was supposed to be angry about this or neutral. A new crew member meant another liability and another mouth to feed.

“Why?”

Sasha shrugged, “Owes me money.”

“Do I need to worry about this guy?”

“No, she's mine.”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow at the possessive comment. Sasha's tone was soft, casual even...but Charlotte's knew her sister better than that—there was more to that story. But she also knew better than to poke at her too, and as tempted as she was to just do it for shits and giggles—now wasn't the time. “Don't let it become a problem, Sasha. Anyway, are you still good for riding with Aunt Trish and I to the airport to drop her off?”

Sasha nodded, visibly perking up, “Yeah, duh. We don't get to see her enough and I'm definitely not gonna miss this. Maybe we can go down to Vice City and visit her soon.”

“You just wanna scope out the city.”

“Yeah, that too.”

Charlotte just chuckled, shaking her head—she wasn't going to tell Sasha about her suspicions with their Aunt. Her suspicions that she was hiding something important from them, Charlotte wasn't sure how Sasha was missing the signs but she suspected that after the whole ordeal in Bullworth and being disowned—maybe Sasha just didn't want to see the signs.

Charlotte loved her Aunt dearly, she did, but she loved her sister more and she wasn't going to let another person in their family break off another piece of her heart because they couldn't get their shit together. Charlotte was still waiting on that PI to call her back. It's only been a day, but shit...she was an impatient woman. She needed to know...Sasha did as well.

“Charlie?”

Charlotte blinked, her mind snapping back to reality and she saw that her sister was looking at her with furrowed eyebrows, “Yeah?”

“You good?”

“I'm good, just uh tired. I haven't been able to sleep lately, my mind has been too busy thinking and thinking.” Charlotte tapped her mug thoughtfully, “Have you thought more about what we talked about a few days ago, Sash?”

Sasha didn't immediately answer and Charlotte watched as her little sister finished off her yogurt before throwing away the container and rinsing off her spoon. Sasha even took the time to put the grapes back where she found them, she was stalling but Charlotte would wait. “Well...among a lot of other things, it's been on my mind. I still think that it needs to be a last resort sort of thing. I mean...” Sasha took a deep breath, then she leaned on the counter so she could reach across and take one of Charlotte's hands in both of hers, holding tightly.

“It's one thing to move marijuana...we're in California, it's legal in most places that we don't really need to worry about the cops too much. But cocaine? Jesus...fuck. Charlotte...I don't know.” Sasha whispered, shaking her head slowly, “I don't like it. I don't want to do it, we can always find another way. That business is too messy.”

“Then we won't do it, then, Sasha. We're partners until the day we die.” Charlotte placed her other hand on top of Sasha's, “It's off the table.”

“Thank you.”

They were so caught up in their moment, that they hadn't even noticed another person entering their kitchen who was now smiling at the sight of two sisters clearly having a bonding moment. Trish loved how close they were, it was rare for sisters in their family to be this close—this vulnerable and trusting with one another. Hell in their family, it wasn't just rare it was damn near unheard of. Trish only caught the tail end of their conversation and it seemed as if they were discussing their business.

“Good morning you two.” Trish chuckled when they both jumped, looking at her a little startled, “Hungry? I'll cook.”

* * *

If Sasha noticed the weird energy between her sister and their Aunt, she didn't say anything about it—she was just content to enjoy what time she had with the only family members she could ever give a damn about. Thankfully, unlike herself, Charlotte kept her kitchen stocked up with food so Trish was able to whip up some scrambled eggs with onions and peppers in them, while Sasha helped make the waffles. Charlotte, opting to check her emails and work on spreadsheets on her laptop just sat at the kitchen counter while watching her sister and their Aunt work in the kitchen. Giggling and talking—despite her reservations with the older woman, Charlotte couldn't help but smile at their antics. There were still some red-flags popping up in her head, but Charlotte was able to ignore them mostly because she enjoyed seeing Sasha smile like this and be so carefree.

It wasn't until Sasha excused herself out of the kitchen when she heard her cell phone ringing in her room. Trish smiled at Charlotte as she began to rinse off the dishes despite the dishwasher being open next to her. Trish liked to clean every dish before sticking it in the dishwasher.

“You've been kind of quiet lately, Charlotte. Is everything okay, honey?”

Charlotte's jaw clenched but she forced herself to relax—she wouldn't be able to relax around this woman until she figured out how much of a threat level she was to her and her sister. And for Sasha's sake, Charlotte was willing to play nice, “Yeah, just a lot on my mind...it won't let me sleep.”

Trish nodded, she could certainly understand that—her mind has been keeping her wide awake these past few nights that she's been in Los Santos visiting Sasha and Charlotte, especially when Charlotte invited her to stay in their home versus some over priced hotel. It weighed on Trish's mind to come clean about their family secrets—but it was all such a long story, and a heartache. She's been enjoying her time with Sasha and Charlotte, and Trish didn't want to ruin that with a brutal history lesson.

“Anything I can help with, I mean, I'm not a genius with numbers like yourself or Sasha, but I'm a good listener.” Trish offered, eyes focused on her task of cleaning all of the dishes that she and used to cook breakfast, plus the leftover dishes from dinner the night before.

Charlotte sighed heavily, she was going to turn down Trish's offer to listen but decided against it at the last minute, “I guess my biggest...headache is our family.”

Trish's movements continued uninterrupted but Charlotte's ever sharp gaze caught the slight stiffening of Trish's shoulders and the bobbing of her throat muscles working—a nervous tick that Charlotte recognized easily, “Our family is...quite complicated, I try not to let it keep me up at night, Charlie. Those people aren't worth the stress, trust me. I've distanced myself for a reason, my only regret is that I didn't get to see you or Sasha as often as I wanted to.”

Charlotte hummed thoughtfully, leaning back on the bar stool slowly fingernails tapping on the counter top gently, staring hard at Trish, “You keep saying that and it's making me think that you have something to hide.”

This time, Trish did stop what she was doing and looked at the other blonde sitting across the counter. Charlotte was looking back at her calmly, her face void of any emotion and Trish sighed heavily, “Charlotte...I...there's a lot of history in our family, and not all of it is very pretty. There are just some things that don't need to be brought into light.”

Charlotte bit the corner of her bottom lip, “I understand that, I do...believe me. I have no desire to rekindle anything with those people, and neither does Sasha. I don't need your entire history Trish,”  _ I can get that on my own, thank you very much,  _ “But if there's something to do with my sister and I, then I think that we have a right to know. No matter how bad you think it is.”

“I...I know.” Trish wiped her hands on the dish rag, and Charlotte immediately felt bad when she saw the older woman's hands were shaking—she came on too strong, she knew this...but when it came to her safety and Sasha's safety, mentally and physically, Charlotte took no prisoners. “I just...it's not easy.”

Charlotte recalled all the times that Michelle had bad mouthed her own sister in front of their family members on multiple occasions, whether Trish was there to defend herself or not—all the nervous laughter. The laughter of a joke Charlotte never understood. “We won't pass judgment on you, Sasha and I...we have our own demons, and that's not what I'm asking from you right now, Trish. I just need to know the truth.”

“Charlotte, I don't—”

Charlotte's tapping fingers curled into a fist on top of the counter, eyes closed briefly, “Don't you dare lie to me in my own house, Trish.”

The tension in the kitchen was thick, nearly suffocating and it was almost as if the time around them slowed down to a complete stop around them. Trish broke first, her voice so quiet that Charlotte nearly missed it, “I wanted to do this better...”

Charlotte ignored that statement, steeling her nerves for the answers that her next question would bring forth—whether she was ready for them or not, “Do you know who our parents are?”

“I...” Trish wiped at the tears falling from her eyes, refusing to look at Charlotte but instead down at the fizzling soap suds in the kitchen sink, “I do, yes.”

Charlotte sucked in a sharp breath, suddenly unsure if she wanted to continue down this line of questioning—she's always had the resources to find out this information for herself, both her and Sasha but they never did. And this was why. They were scared of the fucking truth...they were scared of what it meant for them. Were they really sisters? Even blood related? Was it some other bullshit that Ric and Michelle told them? Neither of them would it put it past them—they always said that no matter what, they'd always be sisters until the day they died.

_ But the truth was a motherfucker. _

Charlotte uncurled her fists, her chest feeling oddly heavy but she pressed on even though she just pressed—it was time to stop running from this. It wasn't going to kill them, but make them stronger. She hoped. “Are...” Charlotte cleared her throat roughly, coughing slightly... _ goddamn emotions,  _ “Are Sasha and I...sisters?”

“Yes.”

“ _ Blood related sisters,”  _ Charlotte hissed vehemently, eyes opened into slits nearly leaking lava like tears.

“ **_Yes._ ** **”** Trish shot back through clenched teeth, her face red and she was openly crying now and Charlotte sobbed with relief...absolute and utter relief, she and Sasha were sisters. Actual blood related sisters...Ric and Michelle didn't fuck them over with that. Trish leaned on the counter, too weak to keep herself upright any longer, “You...you and Sasha have two different fathers, of course.”

“Who...?” Charlotte choked unable to finish the sentence because honestly a part of her didn't give a shit about her father—whether it was Ric or someone else. She didn't care.

“Ric is your father...” Trish's breath caught in her throat, closing her eyes tightly causing more tears to roll down her rosy cheeks as particular horrible memories stormed their way through her carefully built walls—breaking through years of repression, “Sasha's father...he's...he passed away in prison a year after she was born.”

“And our mother?”

Trish looked up, not saying a word—she couldn't. She couldn't admit to a truth she's been staring at for so long, for nearly twenty-seven years. Suddenly, Charlotte's red-rimmed eyes widened as she finally took notice of the hairs on the back of her neck were raised in alert and she quickly turned her head towards the hallway, Trish following suit, and both blondes saw Sasha standing right there. Arms wrapped around her bare midsection, silently crying.

Trish lifted herself off the counter, taking a small step towards Sasha but immediately froze in terror when Sasha took a step backwards, shaking her head, “Sasha—”

“I...you?...wha'?”

“Sasha, please,” Trish pleaded, taking another step despite Sasha moving away and Charlotte wanted to warn the other woman to stop, but she was still trying to get a grip herself much less handle the spiraling situation happening right in front of her, “I—”

“I...I can't be here right n-now,”

“Sasha!”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are my own.
> 
> Thank you all for the kind comments and kudos, I truly appreciate them!
> 
> Next chapter, meeting with Bayley and her crew. Emotional Sasha going to work. Probably a disaster waiting to happen. 
> 
> -Sith


	11. Errands and Meetings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own anything WWE or GTA related.
> 
> Again thank you, [RageAndRiches](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RageAndRiches/pseuds/</a) for the amazing poster!!

* * *

Bianca checked her watch for the thousandth time to make sure that all this damn Los Santos traffic wasn't about to make her late. The last thing that Bianca wanted was Sasha on her ass for being irresponsible with time or some shit like that—ever since that incident at the junkyard warehouse, Bianca found herself using a concealer on her neck to hide the bruising around her throat area. It could've been a lot worse than what it was but Bianca was now trying to get back in Sasha's good graces. Which is how she ended up with the job of being Sasha's chauffeur for the day—even though it was supposed to be Matt's job today, Bianca just hoped that Sasha wouldn't be too irritated with the slight change of players today.

Bianca groaned with irritation when the person in front of her stopped at the yellow,  _ don't these people know I got somewhere to be?!  _ “C'mon bitch, do better,” Bianca mumbled under her breath, rolling her eyes so hard they probably would've fallen out.

It was her own fault for being behind schedule anyway, Bianca could admit that much. She was up late last night getting the last minute changes in order. She was originally supposed to be the one on sniper duty when Sasha was scheduled to meet up with the people that Rhea had vouched for last week. So Bianca had to go to Sasha's garage slash house and pick up Sasha's blacked out Range Rover. Like all of the other cars that Sasha owned, this was a heavy duty sort of truck even though it didn't look like it. Bulletproof tires, armored windows and panels and Sasha even had turbo installed just in case. When Bianca first started working with Sasha, she thought the bitch was paranoid. It didn't take long for Bianca to realize that she wasn't.

Of course that meeting wasn't until later tonight, right now—they had other shit to do, and Sasha's been in a mood lately.

Finally the light turned green and Bianca honked at the person in front of her, “C'mon, shit! Tryin' to get me shot today.” Bianca quickly made a right and hit the highway, going well over the speed limit but she didn't care. Once Bianca was sure she was making good time, she finally relaxed in the Italian leather seat. Bianca reached down into the cup holder and picked up her phone, relieved that she didn't have any missed messages from her boss.

It was another ten minutes before Bianca pulled up to Sasha's residency, parking next to the side door of the building and quickly sending Sasha a text message before she slid out of the vehicle and waited on the passengers side.

Bianca drowned out the sounds of the highway above her and made sure to keep a sharp eye on her surroundings—last thing she wanted was some homeless nobody running up on her. If they didn't kill her, Sasha damn sure would've. Finally after forever, the side door opened and Bianca was quick to open the passengers door and the rear passengers door as well before she took the small black duffel bag from Sasha. The fact that Sasha didn't say anything about Bianca being her driver today meant two things—she was too pissed off with whatever she had going on to give a damn, or she already knew. Bianca assumed both. She always assumed both.

“This is gonna be a long ass day,” Bianca sighed as she moved around to the drivers side and slid into the truck, “Where to first, Boss?”

Sasha kicked her feet up on the dash and Bianca was quick to notice that Sasha wasn't wearing any high heels today (no wonder she looked shorter than usual) but Sasha was wearing what she liked to call her 'work boots'. They were all black Doc Martens, well worn and rarely ever seen. But when Sasha  _ did  _ wear them—it usually meant someone was going to die. No wonder Matt was all too happy to switch shifts,  _ bastard. _

Sasha sighed heavily, and shrugged, “We are stopping at the cab company, East of Vinewood.”

Bianca had a bewildered look on her face, “Cab company? Mirror Park Boulevard?” when Sasha nodded, Bianca put the vehicle in gear and they were on their way to a damn cab company, for what? Bianca didn't know, but she was willing to risk it to find out, “So, uh, what the hell are we doin' going to this cab place?”

Sasha was quiet for a little while just content to stare out the window, fingers tapping on her legs to the beat of the song softly playing on the radio. Bianca kept her focus on the road in front of her, though mostly on the idiot drivers that never had enough sense to use their turn signals or their overall common sense.

“Baron Corbin.”

“What?” Bianca made a face as she popped in another piece of pink bubblegum, “And who the hell is that?”

“He's the one that owns the cab company. Charlotte's been working on this deal for weeks now, the guy originally wanted a million for it, but Charlotte managed to knock him down to two hundred and fifty thousand somehow. Don't ask me how, I don't know how. Our job is to make sure he signs the papers that's in that bag back there.”

Bianca made a small sound, “Okay, whatever, and what...are we gonna do with a cab company? 'Cause I'm going ahead and saying this shit now...I ain't drivin' some raggedy cab in this city.”

Sasha rolled her eyes, she was way too tired to be dealing with Bianca's nonsense,“No one asked you to.” but she did have to agree...she wasn't driving no one in a goddamn taxi cab  _ anywhere.  _ Charlotte wouldn't tell her what it was for, but it wasn't as if Sasha was up for much conversation lately anyway. Not after...Sasha was tired. Of everything and everyone.

“I heard ya kept that redhead bitch around.”

“Bianca.” Sasha closed her eyes slowly, letting her head fall back on the headrest, “Don't.”

Bianca made the turn that would take them straight into east Vinewood, “Nah, nah, we gonna talk 'bout this shit Sasha! We've known each other for a minute now, right?” when Sasha didn't answer, Bianca just took it as a confirmation, “Right, and I ain't never seen you act this simple over a piece of ass!”

“Bianca, I'm not in the mood right now.”

“Well I am! I'm not tryin' to have your sister whoop my ass all over these streets in front of a bunch of crackheads because ya ass gone and went soft over this Irish chick! Ya go soft, get shot! We don't know this ho'! She clearly don't go here! So lets buy her a plane ticket and send her back to wherever the fuck she came from!”

Sasha set her feet down on the floor and sat up a little bit as she rubbed the palms of her hands over her eyes, “She'll pull her goddamn weight, Bianca! Don't forget that it wasn't a year ago when you had to prove your worth too.”

“A year and a half,” Bianca muttered, popping her bubble, pretending that she didn't feel the heat of Sasha's glare on the side of her face, or the fact that her hands were clenched in her lap, “If she pulled her weight, then where she at? This job is easy, she can do this too can't she? Driving Miss Daisy!”

“She's with Matt, helping him set up surveillance for tonight.”

Bianca scoffed,  _ twice,  _ but she wisely kept whatever backhanded comment to herself but only because they arrived at their destination. Bianca pulled into the parking space directly in front of the building, not caring that it was the handicap spot. It was about to be their parking lot soon anyway. Bianca cut the engine as Sasha rummaged around the duffel bag and quickly pulled out the red folder containing the papers that Charlotte sent with her to have signed. Sasha also pulled something else out of her bag but Bianca was too busy reapplying her pink lipstick to really noticed what it was.

Even though she could feel it on her lower back, Bianca still had to check to make sure she was prepared for any and everything this trash city had to throw at them.

* * *

The cab office was...unsurprisingly gross and untidy. It looked like it once used to be something respectable but now there were just desks in the main area of the building with logs of paperwork and junk and whatever else a cab company kept as documents. There were several bulletin boards around the main lobby with maps of Los Santos pinned up with various routes marked from fastest to slowest, construction hot-zones, hell they even had subway maps.

The more they saw, the more Sasha and Bianca began to see why this place appealed to Charlotte so damn much—enough to buy it. There were a few dispatchers there as well, a few desks away tucked in a corner. They didn't seem to mind them at all, if they even noticed them walk in.

“This place is gross,” Sasha mumbled, making a face at all the grimy stains she could spot a mile away, and Bianca hummed in agreement behind her. They finally made it to the main office near the back of the lobby and Sasha quickly rapped her knuckles against the frosted glass on the door.

“Yo, come on in!”

Bianca rolled her eyes and followed her boss into the office that currently belonged to Baron Corbin, though not for long and Bianca prayed this wouldn't take too long because she was ready to get the hell out of this place. Baron's office was a little more put together than what they've seen so far out in the lobby, but not by much.

When he saw them, his eyes lit up and he immediately took his feet off the desk and stood up. Surprising both of them with how tall he was, clearly over six foot five—not very muscular but he wasn't going to be a problem against a bullet if it came down to that. And judging by the way he was smiling at Sasha...it might come down to that, especially because Sasha was in a nasty mood today.

“Well, well,” Baron smiled, and sat down on the edge of his desk while Bianca closed the office door, “What brings you two beautiful angels into my office today? Here to take me back to heaven with you?”

Bianca's entire face scrunched up,  _ boy what?!  _ Sasha though, somehow, managed to keep a straight face completely unfazed and held up the folder in her hand along with a pen, “Mr. Corbin, I need you to sign this.”

“Just call me Baron, baby girl,” Baron chuckled, looking amused for no reason, “Sign what? I don't even know your name, girl.”

“You don't need to know my name, just sign this so I can move on with my life,  _ Baron.” _

Baron rolled up his sleeves of his white button up shirt that clearly hasn't seen an iron in...well probably since he bought the damn thing. He was clearly trying to show off his colorful ink up and down his arms and Bianca nearly laughed at his attempts to woo Sasha.

Baron took the folder and skimmed through the contents inside before he closed it and tossed it aside on his desk causing Bianca to wince,  _ ah shit.  _ Sasha's eyes flashed with irritation and Bianca wasn't too about this situation anymore—Sasha was unpredictable on a good day. A  _ good  _ day. “Listen, I have a better deal...I'll sign that paper under one condition; go to dinner with me tonight.”

“Excuse you?”

Baron quickly held up his hands in mock surrender, smirking, “Whoa, whoa, calm down...listen, you're pretty girl, and I wanna take you out then I'll sign the papers after dinner or whatever, it's a win-win for us both, right? I get what I want...you get what you want, which is this shit hole cab company.” Baron reached out and took Sasha's hand with one of his bigger ones, positive that his traditional bad boy smirk was doing what it did best, “Like I said, win-win.”

Sasha smiled, she  _ smiled _ and Bianca's blood ran cold—she knew that smile all too well. Most people never lived to tell the tale behind that smile, but Baron fell for it, just like they all did. “Just to clarify, you want me to sleep with you to get you to sign those papers?”

Baron shrugged, entirely too cocky for his own good, “This is Los Santos...you know as well as I do that nothing's free in this city. You want somethin' I have...and you definitely got somethin' I want.” Baron's eyes shamelessly roamed over Sasha and Bianca nearly gagged at the sight, the man had zero shame and he didn't seem to care that she was in the room too.

Sasha, still smiling, turned slightly and tilted her chin towards the door and Bianca caught the hint immediately. “I'll be right outside, Boss.”

Baron, clearly thinking he was about to get what he wanted sooner than he thought—clearly used to having his way with women, I.E., taking advantage of them—began to unbutton his shirt. It was the last thing that Bianca saw before she closed the door behind herself. And not even a second later, she felt rather than heard a heavy thud and a loud yelp coming from inside the room.

Thankfully, the dispatchers were wearing headsets and were far enough away to not hear Corbin trying and failing to yell out for help. Bianca could hear flesh against flesh, but she knew the sounds for what they were.

Bianca wasn't sure how long she stood in front of the door listening to her boss beat down on a grown man. There was another stud and Bianca could hear Sasha talking but she couldn't exactly make out what she was saying. Suddenly the door opened and Sasha stormed out before Bianca could even blink. Her eyes tracked her boss making a beeline towards the exit. Bianca turned slightly, seeing Corbin laying on the floor slumped against his file cabinet. Bianca couldn't tell if the blood was coming from his nose or his mouth, but his shirt was ruined by the blood and he was already sporting two black eyes. Bianca spotted a tooth on the floor and raised an eyebrow at the semi-unconscious man, Sasha was in a worse mood than she thought.

Corbin grunted, one eye blinking lazily at her and Bianca just scoffed, “Pleasure doing business with ya, cue ball. Oh and you're fired. Clean this shit up before you go, or you'll be seeing me again.”

Bianca closed the office door and left the building. She saw Sasha was already in the car, head bowed and Bianca rushed to get in the car. She quickly turned it on and cranked up the AC. Bianca looked down at Sasha's hands and saw exactly why Corbin looked half dead. Sasha was wearing her gold brass knuckles that were designed to say 'Legit Boss', it had been a birthday present from Mojo and Matt. They were covered in blood as were Sasha's hands.

Bianca reached into the glove compartment, pushing aside the gun and knife in there and pulled out a small pack of wipes. Bianca was tempted to just do the deed herself but she figured it would be safer to let Sasha do it on her own, so she just set them in Sasha's lap and sat back in her seat.

Bianca watched as Sasha took off the rings and placed them soundly in the cup holder, and open the wipes. Bianca popped a few more bubbles until Sasha was finished cleaning her hands that Bianca decided to say something, “You good?”

“Thank you.” was all Sasha said, now cleaning her brass rings.

“Look, I know that...” Bianca sighed again, rolling her eyes, “You're my boss, but we're friends too. So if you're not good...y'know I'm here, don't you?”

“I pay you to be here, Bianca. I pay all of you to be here,” Sasha said coldly, not bothering to look at Bianca, “We're going to the jewelry store, we need to scope out their security system.”

Bianca put the car in gear but she didn't start driving just yet, “You pay me, yeah, but it's not the money that keeps me around.”

Sasha made a face, and it wasn't a happy face—her jaw was set with her head now titled back, “Bianca—”

“Don't. I know what you said, I remember, but it doesn't make what I just said any less true. Loyalty ain't all 'bout the money, sis. Remember  _ that _ .” Bianca ignored Sasha's glare as she turned back around in her seat and started the truck.

* * *

**_Later that evening..._ **

Bianca checked her watch and made a disgruntled noise, “They're late.”

“Of course they're late,” Sasha grumbled, her hands stuffed in her jacket pockets while she leaned against the hood of her truck, “They're new to town, and they wanna make a statement by keeping me waiting. It's pissing me off more than it's impressing me, really.”

Bianca shrugged, “Say the word and you know that pothead will scratch them out for you.”

“Becky's there with him, right?”

Bianca's eyes rolled and she was positive that they'd roll every time she would hear that woman's name, “Yeah, she up there too. I still don't understand why...she ain't ready for none of this, Sasha.”

“No, but she's gotta learn sometime... _ you  _ had to, remember?”

Bianca huffed, flipping her long braid over her shoulder, “Yeah but this ain't a lifestyle for someone who got bored bein' a nobody. She got fired from the grocery store, Sasha, the fuck she gonna do for you out here? Throw apples? Be ya lil' cashier or some shit? Perfect opportunity for a narc, Sasha, that's all I'm gonna say.”

“ _ Black SUV coming your way, Boss.”  _ Matt's voice came through on the small Bluetooth comm devices in their ears, halting any further discussion between Sasha and Bianca. They saw the headlights and heard the engine before the all black SUV that Matt mentioned came to a full stop in front of them. Like them, they left their engine running but turned off the lights. Because nothing was more suspicious than two vehicles facing each other with their headlights on, on the roof of a parking garage.

Bianca stood behind Sasha on her left, letting the newcomers know who The Boss was but Bianca was also close enough to jump in front of Sasha in case anything were to pop off. Two men got out of the SUV first, both of them were pale but that red head man was really pale and Bianca knew that that was going to change if they planned on staying in Los Santos any longer than they already have. The men were pretty big and tough looking, but Bianca has faced down bigger and badder. And if she couldn't, there were always sixteen bullets in her clip that would be more than willing to talk on her behalf.

The last person to exit the vehicle was some chick with short dark hair that framed her face who also seemed to think that cartoon leggings, vans and a t-shirt was okay for a first meeting. Bianca scoffed under her breath, already over this meeting.

“Ah, you must be The Boss.”

Sasha raised an eyebrow, and shrugged—not liking this meeting already, “Who's asking?”

The woman smiled brightly, and it just rubbed Bianca the wrong way, “Oh right, I'm Bayley. These are my associates, Sheamus and Cesaro. And who's this?”

Sasha shrugged again, “She'll be your Grim Reaper if you keep testing my patience tonight, you were late  _ Bayley. _ ”

Bayley's smile never wavered, “Traffic...plus we're new to the city. It's gonna take us a while to get used to being here.”

Bianca didn't like the way this woman just automatically assumed that Sasha was going to give them the green light to do whatever it is they're wanting to do in her city, and apparently Sasha was thinking the exact same thing, “And what makes you think that you'll have the opportunity to?”

“Because what I have to say will make you a lot of money in the long run, and given what I know about you through the streets...you like money, Boss.”

Sasha smirked, looking Bayley up and down, “And what is it that you think you can do for me, Bayley? Hmm? You don't look like much of a driver to me, and neither do they.” Cesaro huffed but he went ignored.

“That's because I have zero interests of breaking into that lifestyle, that's not what this meeting is about. This about an opportunity,” Bayley replied, crossing her arms, “I hear that you have the ear of the one who really runs this city, the Queen.”

Sasha's smile was slow and deadly, “And let me guess, you want to appeal to my reasonable side in hopes that you'll get enough credit with me, and then I'll put in a good word for you?”

Bayley shrugged lightly, “That's the plan.”

“We'll I can tell you one thing, so far the Queen doesn't like you.”

“And you know this how?”

_ My word is the Queen's word, and if I don't like you, she don't like you.  _ Sasha contemplated saying that, but she knew that she'd be overplaying her hand in front of an unknown that was yet to be considered a friend or foe—so Sasha just smiled sweetly at the other woman, “The Queen doesn't really like unannounced new players in her city, something about not really trusting them.”

Bayley chuckled, “Well then, it's a good thing I knocked first then isn't it? Listen, bullshit aside...I have a proposition for you, if you're interested?”

“You just said that my lifestyle isn't your interest,” Sasha scoffed, shaking her head, “I'm starting to think your only interest here is to waste my goddamn time and to be frank with you, Bayley. Today is not a very good day to fuck with me. So, you have sixty seconds to tell me what the fuck you want with my time.”

“I hear you run more than races through Los Santos. And that unlike everyone else, you can make a move without calling Queenie about it first. Right?”

“You've been hearing a lot of things, I see.” Sasha commented dryly while Bianca shifted closer to Sasha, not liking the way the pale skinned man was looking at them, “Doesn't make it all true. Wasting time, Bayley.”

“Listen, I've been trying to move my shit in and out of this city for months now—but according to all the ports, nothing goes through this city without The Boss' say so. I can imagine that Queenie charges you a nice little tax for doing that kind of dishonest work in her city, doesn't she?”

_ You would think that,  _ Sasha thought with a casual shrug, “We all have to pay our taxes eventually. You wanna run whatever it is that you wanna run through this city, okay, maybe or maybe not, but for what? Why not just do it and take me out?”

“That's not how I like to do business, Boss. If I'm taking out my competition, I'd prefer you to see me coming. As for what? That's my business.  _ Your  _ business will be to make sure that my product doesn't have any problems getting in and out. I'll give you twenty percent of every shipment.”

Sasha and Bianca shared a brief look, “Twenty-five and I'll consider it.”

Bayley smirked, shaking her head, “You didn't let me finish...twenty percent for every shipment, plus a ten percent discount if you find yourself looking for new inventory.”

“A generous offer but I'm just a street racer, Bayley, what makes you think I'll need that discount for?”

Bayley gestured towards the Range Rover behind Sasha and Bianca, “You're driving around in an armored luxury truck...and I can imagine all of your other vehicles are armored. I'm positive that you have a gun on me somewhere...if not two, maybe three because you're paranoid. It comes with the territory of liking money the way that you do.”

“You hear a few rumors, get a little bit of information. Now what? You think you know me? Are you trying to impress me into giving you permission to move in and build up this little business of yours?”

“Yeah, because I won't charge you as much as the cartel. I deliver quality but cheaper. Why? To make sure that something like this won't happen to me.”

Sasha licked her bottom lip slowly, thoughtfully, “That's a risky system.”

“It works, and as a show of good faith...I brought you a gift.” Bayley signaled her two goons for something, both men stepped away and went behind their own SUV and opened the trunk.

“ _ Thing one and thing two getting something out of the trunk...looks like a trunk. On your signal, EST.”  _ Bianca popped a loud bubble as she placed her hand on Sasha's lower back where her pistol was sitting.

Across from them, Bayley cocked her head to the side at Bianca's gesture, surprised then amused, “More than a bodyguard, Boss?”

Sasha just smiled, not bothering to rise to the bait as she and Bianca watched Bayley's two companions bring a black medium sized footlocker and set it down in front of them. Cesaro put in the code on the keypad and the trunk opened. Sasha fully expected to see a footlocker full of cheap guns both old and new with missing firing pins and such...maybe even just a dozen or so military grade weapons. No, Sasha was staring down at a shotgun—not just any shotgun, it was Russian made and rumored to have been not yet tested. Sasha's read up on it a few times...but Sasha wasn't very much into guns. Maybe she would ask Becky to look at this later.

As the thought passed, Sasha smiled and Bayley visibly preened thinking that The Boss's smile was for a completely different reason. “I assume that you like what you see then, Boss?”

Cesaro closed the trunk and stepped back, joining Sheamus and Bayley once more. Sasha tapped her chin with her index finger thoughtfully, staring hard at Bayley behind her shades, “You'll get a test run, if everything goes fine...then we'll talk. Get your hand off my ass and put this in the back.”

Bayley watched as Bianca picked up the trunk with Sheamus, then looked back at Sasha smiling, “So, we have a deal then?”

“Twenty-five percent, plus the eleven percent discount  _ if  _ everything goes right? Yep.”

Bayley began to boil behind her smirk, the audacity of this woman—she was warned by Rhea and several others that were brave enough to talk about The Boss with her, but seeing the woman in person? The overconfidence? Sense of entitlement? Lack of humility? Bayley wondered how no one has taken The Boss down yet, her ego was her own worst enemy. Anyone could see it a mile away. But for now, she'd let The Boss have things her way...there was always time for negotiation later.

“How can I contact you, Boss?”

“Port thirty-four, by the industry...do this right, and that will become your official way in and out without hassle. Make a schedule, give it to the foreman on duty in twenty-four hours, ask for Taker—he'll be there. After that, you go away...he'll call me. That way if you're full of shit, my hands are clean.”

Bianca continued to chew her gum and pop bubbles until Sasha was back in the car, “I hope y'all fuck up...it's been a while since I've had to hunt a bitch down.”

Bayley gave Bianca a mocking look as she held up her hands in mock surrender, “Drive safely.”

Bianca spat her gum out, and got in the car leaving Bayley, Sheamus and Cesaro on the roof of the parking garage alone.

“Well, that went fine.” Sheamus chuckled, popping his shoulder, “Boss isn't what I expected though, mouthy thing isn't she?”

“Oh, I thought she was pretty hot.”

“All the bad ones are mate, remember, we gotta job to do, yeah?”

Bayley ignored her two friends' casual banter as they all slid back into the SUV. Bayley immediately pulled out her phone and called one of the four numbers plugged into the contact list and the phone only rang three times.

“ _ Yes?” _

“We're in.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are my own.
> 
> -Sith


	12. Training Day Pt 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own anything WWE or GTA related.

* * *

It's been a week and a half since Becky has seen Sasha, and a little bit longer since she's even heard a peep from that woman since that night that Sasha dropped Becky off home for the second time in her life after deciding not to kill her. For the second time. A week and a half ago, Becky and Matt sat on the roof of a building for hours with a little red cooler full of drinks and sandwiches as they camped in their little roof spot that was a few buildings away from the parking garage where Sasha had her sketchy meeting with some chick with short black hair and her two bodyguards.

Aside from Sasha, barely, Matt was decent. Becky's earlier assessment of him about being some pothead surfer living on Vespucci beach until the end of his days didn't go away—but she could add super criminal to the list. She never would have guessed that Sasha would be in leagues with a guy like that, or vice versa. He talked a lot but he hadn't really been telling her too much of anything for the entire five hours they'd been on that roof. Becky suspected that he did that to keep her from asking too many questions but he was nice enough to keep her nerves at bay. Becky had been aware that she was supposed to be with Bianca that night.

She praised the Gods. Because she was positive that one of them, if not both of them, would be going over the side of the building before the meeting could have even started.

It was Becky's first real job with The Boss and she was only a little surprised about how easy it was but she wasn't dumb enough to think that things couldn't have went sideways faster than Matt could've pulled the trigger. Becky's heart had been thumping harder and harder behind her rib cage the closer the meeting time had gotten closer and she was nearly sweating out of her shirt when Sasha's car finally arrived at the roof of the parking garage. Becky had watched as Bianca and Matt did a quick comm check before they both went radio silent until absolutely necessary—and it really solidified things for Becky if they weren't already.

This woman was professionally running a group of criminals that were willingly following her. It was still so surreal for Becky.

Now currently, damn near two weeks later, Becky hadn't heard from Sasha or anyone else from the woman's crew. Well...her crew now? Becky wasn't sure where she stood with the rest of Sasha's operation. She wasn't exactly a welcome party. For the past two weeks, Becky had been watching her phone like a hawk and being sure to keep the volume as loud as it could possibly go just in case she was in the shower or something. She always kept the damn thing charging during the day too when she wasn't playing Call of Duty mobile so she could have it laying next to her head on her pillow.

That night Sasha took her home, she'd gotten Becky's number though Becky suspected that the woman already had it along with her social security number and bank account information but she gave it to her anyway. It was the last time Becky's been within arms reach of the shorter woman.

Becky sighed heavily, glancing at her phone briefly as she continued to eat her soggy Captain Crunch cereal, she was pretty sure the milk had grown a little warm a few minutes ago, but Becky didn't care—she was just tired of sitting in her apartment with shit to do. If she had any friends, she'd be calling them but she didn't and therefore there was nowhere for her to go really, and taking fifteen minute walks wasn't doing shit for her.

The nagging thoughts that she was just wasting her time waiting for this woman to call her but Becky shoved those thoughts back down into the deep dark hole they continued to crawl out of. Becky didn't know Sasha too well, not as much as Sasha knew her, but Becky knew the woman didn't lie to her. Why would she lie to Becky about this when she could've just killed her to get it all over with? It was the only thing that Becky was hanging on to. This was her real chance to live her life and freedom. It was too late for her old life...she was just living to die three weeks ago. Now, Becky felt that she was ready to risk five to life.

Unable to continue to eat her cereal anymore, Becky picked up her bowl and rinsed it out—watching everything wash down the drain before she set the bowl down and went to her living room, preparing herself for another round of court TV.

_ Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! _

Becky startled slightly, her neck nearly snapping when she glared at her door wide eyed.  _ Who the hell... _ her thoughts were interrupted when another series of hard knocks threatened to nearly shake her old door off its hinges. Whoever it was thought it was necessary to knock like they were the goddamn police and at that though, Becky's blood ran ice cold.  _ Oh shit.  _ Becky knew she didn't have anything illegal on her or in her apartment but she was looking around double checking just in case as she went to open her door and nearly caught a fist to the face.

“I know you ain't got shit to do, what the fuck took you so goddamn long to open the door?”

Before Becky could answer she was pushed aside and her apartment was invaded by an unwanted and uninvited guest. Becky slammed the door shut so hard that it shook the walls and they both heard a crash from the right behind Becky's kitchen wall and someone yelling and cursing at them. They went ignored as Bianca stopped in the middle of Becky's apartment, looking around with a disgusted look on her face and Becky just scoffed. She was positive that the other woman had more expensive and quality items in her apartment, but they lived in the same building. Bianca didn't have a lot of room to judge her.

“What do you want, ponytail?”

Bianca smirked, not immediately answering Becky as she pulled out a lollipop and unwrapped it. It was the first time that Becky's seen the woman without a piece of gum in her mouth. Bianca looked Becky up and down and smirked around her candy. Becky's eyes narrowed, fist clenching at her sides. “Be downstairs in ten minutes, scrub.”

“For what?”

“You know for  _ who _ .” Bianca strolled back towards the front door and shoulder checked Becky on her way out, but stopped for a moment and looked over her shoulder, “You escaped death twice, Red. It won't happen a third time. I promise you this.”

Bianca walked out of Becky's apartment, leaving the door wide open. Becky sighed heavily, and she grabbed her phone and backpack before she exited her apartment.

* * *

By the time Becky made it downstairs, she saw Bianca's car hauling ass out of the parking lot, and for a moment Becky panicked. Because of course that bitch was trying to set up to fail before Becky had a chance to prove herself to The Boss.  _ Fuck! _

“Good morning, Becky.”

Becky nearly gave herself whiplash when she turned around to see Sasha standing there next to an all all black BMW, hell even with the sun high in the sky Becky was having a hard time seeing inside of the car but really? She wasn't too worried about the car, just the woman leaning against it. Becky quickly forgot about her anger towards Bianca and shuffled closer to Sasha, standing on the curb with her hands in her pockets. Becky tried not to pay too much to Sasha wearing nothing but a pair of gray tights and a matching sports bra beneath her open jacket. It should be illegal for someone to look this good in public.

“Hey, uh, long time not see, huh?” Becky would have slapped herself because who the hell says that to? Especially to someone like Sasha? The Queen of The Streets? Becky knew she could've said something a lot less corny than that but she was finding it difficult to get her thoughts together around this woman and blurted out the first bonehead that she could think of. “Sorry, I...hi, Sasha. What's up with ya?” Becky sighed quietly, that wasn't much better either. Whatever God that existed hated her, she was positive of it.

“Besides the sky? Nothing, you?”

Becky cleared her throat, forcing herself to look at anything else besides Sasha's abs and the jewelry decorating her navel, “Uh, just...hangin' out, I guess.”

Sasha laughed softly, moving slightly and something on her bare midsection caught Becky's attention, drawing her eyes to Sasha's gleaming belly button piercing and Becky briefly wondered if it was a real diamond but considering who she was dealing with. It was a dumb question because of course it was a real diamond.

“Any plans today, Lynch?”

Becky shrugged, eyes darting around as if to say 'do I look like I have plans?', “Nope, you?”

“Yeah; you.”

Becky nearly choked on her spit and oxygen, “I'm sorry, what?”

“Get in.” Sasha smirked and unlocked her car, “We have things to do today.”

“We do?” Becky asked as she went around to the passengers side of the sleek car and tossed her backpack in the backseat as she slid into the passenger's seat, not surprised that the seats were leather and the interior was dark polished wood on the dash and the door panels. This woman made money look poor. And Becky wasn't even sure how that even made sense but it did.

“We do,” Sasha confirmed as she got them out of the parking lot smoothly, “Consider today your first day of training.”

_ It's about time,  _ but Becky didn't say that out loud. “Oh, so...okay, are we doing a job right now?”

“Not really,” Sasha replied, and she was quiet until they reached a red light, “How'd you like your first job?”

“My first...oh you mean sittin' on a roof with Matt?” Becky shrugged, sinking down further in her seat as she got more comfortable, “It was okay, kinda boring.”

“Trust me, boring is what will keep you alive in this world.” Sasha took off her shades and set them down in the cup holder when the light turned green and Becky noticed immediately that Sasha drove differently in this car than she did her Ferrari. Still fast but a lot calmer. “How comfortable are you with guns, Becky?”

“Uh,” the question caught Becky off guard for a moment, “I grew up around 'em, I'm pretty comfortable with 'em.”

Sasha glanced at her, “Around them? What about handling them? Can you handle a gun, Becky?”

“I can handle anything ya throw at me, Sasha. Just give me a chance to prove it, I know that I'm new around here and everythin', but I'm not some useless charity sap you picked up from the streets.”

“I hope you can back up that big talk, Becky.” Sasha said, still smirking, “Because you might have to prove it real soon.”

“What, uh, what do ya mean by that then?”

Sasha was quiet for a moment, focusing on the road in front of them as she got on the highway, “One of my guys, Seth, was crossed out three days ago.”

“Crossed out?”

“Yep,” Sasha sighed heavily, “middle of the night going to get food, they caught him at a red light and put ninety seven holes in his body.”

“Holy shit...” Becky breathed, a cold sweat breaking out down her spine, “I...why? Because he worked for you?”

Sasha laughed though she didn't find anything funny, “No, because of his past life. He mostly did surveillance for me but the point of this news is that I have a spot open for you now officially. And I need to know Becky...if you need to shoot someone, can you?”

“Yeah.”

“But will you?”

Becky looked away from Sasha and out the window, watching as they sped past the other drivers on the LS highway as Sasha took them further downtown. The buildings in this area weren't run down and the cars on the freeway were newer and shinier, the roads were a lot smoother. And she knew that they were in Sasha's world. The world where money was much louder than a gunshot. This was the lifestyle that Becky wanted. It was the lifestyle that she begged for her life to live. But Sasha's question had Becky's mouth glued shut. Could she? Could she really just kill someone? In cold blood? For money? For this woman? To prove that she wasn't some useless chump with issues, like the other million idiots living in this city. Becky truly didn't know. Could she kill a cop? Or just another human being in general?

“You could if they were trying to kill you.” Sasha startled Becky out of her thoughts and the redhead hadn't realized that she'd been thinking out loud—she would've been miffed and humiliated but Sasha wasn't laughing at her, or mocking her. Sasha was being completely serious even though she wasn't looking at Becky, “We've all asked ourselves those questions thousands of times. But you'll soon understand that self preservation will always win out against being a morally compelled idiot. This is the lifestyle that we lead, Becky. This is the life that you asked to live for.”

“I know.”

“No the fuck you don't. You don't know shit, not really...but you will.” Sasha shrugged, looking over at Becky, taking in her outfit for the first time and exhaled heavily, “Oh my god. We have a lot of work to do.”

“What?”Becky looked down at her blue jeans and her t-shirt, confused, then back to Sasha, “You don't like ACDC?”

* * *

_ Pillbox Hill... _

Sasha had brought them to Pillbox Hill which was literally in the middle of the city, the heart really. It was actually the biggest neighborhood in downtown Los Santos. The district contained the biggest skyscrapers in the city that were home to all the Major companies like Maze Bank, the Union Depository, Lombank, and many others. Sasha's BMW fit right in this area and Becky felt a little under-dressed despite Sasha literally wearing workout clothing—if money was a person, it would've been Sasha.

“What are we doin' here?”

Sasha glanced over at Becky as if the answer was obvious, and it was but knowing how unpredictable Sasha could be, Becky would rather be safer than sorry by just asking. Even if the question would have been considered dumb.

“You told me that you can handle a gun, I just need to see where you are with this. Lives are gonna be depending on you to know how to pull a damn trigger without hesitation and pull it with accuracy.” Sasha led Becky through the double red doors of the Los Santos gun range and she barely paid any mind to the man behind the counter.

Becky gawked at the sheer amount of firearms on the walls and in the glass casing, ranging from pistols to a minigun. Becky approached one of the displays and saw that they even sold knives and machetes. On the wall in front of her, there were various grades of armor ranging from light to heavy.

“Holy shit...” Becky turned and saw that Sasha was standing by another door, looking at her but she didn't seem annoyed or impatient just amused at Becky's naked curiosity.

“Come on, it gets better.”

“Don't we have to pay for the range?”

The man behind the counter scoffed and shook his head, “Nah, go on back...a friend of The Boss is a friend of Otis.”

Becky looked back at Sasha, but the woman was already gone. Becky exhaled deeply and followed Sasha through the second red door, stepping right into the gun range. And it was huge. But it was a lot quieter than Becky expected it to be, though that might have had something to do with there being no one occupying any of the stalls. Becky met Sasha at the last stall which was the biggest and she took the earplugs and safety glasses offered to her.

“So, you have an option of handguns, sub-machine guns, assault rifles, light machine guns and heavy. What's your preference?”

Becky looked down at the assorted guns on the large table, wondering how much Sasha paid to have this set up and the place vacated. Becky reached over and picked up an AP Pistol and Sasha just smirked as she pulled out her own personal weapon.

“Alright, Lynch. First round, you see those targets out there?”

“Yeah,” Becky grumbled as she inspected her weapon like her father taught her all those miserable years ago. No matter how hard Becky tried to forget about her 'childhood', there was just no kicking muscle memory, especially when it was beaten into her until she got it right.

“Orange or purple?”

“Orange.”

Sasha smirked, and flipped the safety on her gun, “First to clear our color wins, best out of three. What do you say?

Becky looked up at the targets then to her new boss, and shrugged, feeling a little bold, “What do I get if I win?”

“What do you want?” Becky opened her mouth but quickly closed it before something idiotic came flying out. But she didn't need to have bothered because whatever was on Becky's mind must have been written all over her face because Sasha was smirking at her, nearly laughing.

“How about we figure out where you are with these targets before you start making bets like  _ that.  _ Winner buys lunch, how about that?”

Becky coughed, feeling her face heating up quickly making Sasha laugh, “You don't think I can handle somethin' like  _ that _ ?”

“Hmm,” Sasha gave Becky a slow once over, and Becky felt naked and judged under that heavy gaze. Becky saw the mischief in them and Bianca's words from earlier came back to her like a freight train. But Becky didn't care...she was positive that she was the one percent on the planet that got to look death in the eye and believe she could fall in love. “Not yet.”

* * *

_ Clink clink clink _

Sasha dropped the magazine out of the carbine assault rifle she was using but it was too late, the buzzer went off and Becky threw down her rifle with a loud yell of triumph and Sasha sighed heavily as she set her own rifle down on the table along with her glasses but she was far from upset. Sasha was not only impressed with Becky's smooth handling of various weapons presented on the table but she had better aim than Sasha was expecting her to have.

Sasha would've liked to use the excuse that she was more focused on Becky's surprisingly bulky biceps than the actual targets in front of them, and how the vein in Becky's neck was begging to be bitten—but Sasha was woman enough to admit when she was just outclassed.

Though, shooting metal targets and shooting flesh were two different things but Sasha would shelve that for another time.

She was just relieved that Bianca was wrong about Becky being completely useless and a waste of time. Becky clearly had more up her sleeve than she was letting on. They'd been playing this game for a better part of two hours and there were casings all over the floor at their feet. The computer calculated Sasha's accuracy at eight-nine percent while Becky's was ninety-four.

“I guess I owe you lunch.”

“Hell yeah ya do.”

Becky's laugh was high with adrenaline and it was bright as the sun outside. There was an excitement in her eyes that Sasha hadn't seen before since meeting the woman and Sasha couldn't help but be infected with Becky's jovial mood—she was just glad Bianca wasn't here because Sasha was absolutely sure that she'd never live this down.

Sasha leaned over and began to shut down the simulator, “Anything you in the mood for, Lynch?”

“Uh...” Becky's eyes drifted a little lower when Sasha reached over to mess with the computer that had been sitting on the table keeping track of their scores. Not for the first time today, Becky wished she were those tights, but she was smart enough to not let herself get caught up in staring. She embarrassed herself enough today. “I like steak. There's this place I read about...somewhere 'round here, I think.”

Sasha finished what she was doing and collected her personal weapon before turning around fully to Becky with her lips pressed tightly thoughtfully, “I think I know which restaurant you're talking about, but....you can't go looking like that.”

“What's wrong with what I got on?”

Sasha winced, Becky's outdated blue jeans and her shirt that clearly saw better days before it reached the thrift shop that Becky clearly bought it from, wouldn't make it past the lobby of the place Becky wanted to eat at. Sasha had been meaning to talk to Becky about upping her dressing game if she was going to be seen with her all the time but not this soon—though Sasha figured now was just as a good of a time as any.

“If you're going to be seen with me on a twenty-four seven, the jeans and t-shirt look is okay but I can't have you looking like a total bum.”

“Oh,” Becky cleared her throat and put her hands in her pockets, and shrugged, “Yeah, no...yeah, I...listen I don't mean to sound ungrateful 'cause you've given me more chances in life than my own folks my whole life.”

Sasha immediately grew uncomfortable when Becky mentioned her parents, worried that Becky was about to drop another childhood bomb on her but Sasha remained quiet, willing to let Becky get whatever it was off her chest.

“And that money ya got my ass beat for was helpful and all, but...this is all I can afford, yeah? I'll get better shit when I can.”

Sasha chuckled, tilting her head to the side as if she'd just seen the cutest thing in the world, “Becky.”

“Yeah?”

“You're already half a million dollars in debt with me...what's a couple thousand more? Come on, we're going shopping before I treat you to lunch.”

“Shopping? Lunch? Right now? But I smell like gunpowder and sweat!”

“And? Are you trying to impress anyone?”

“I...no, but—I don't wanna make ya look bad, like ya just said.”

“Good,” Sasha grinned slightly, “You're a quick learner, aren't you?”

“Only when there's a lesson to be learned.”

Sasha's grin widened and her eyes narrowed slightly, “I'm not the teacher you want, Lynch.”

“Yeah, maybe, but ya probably the one I need.”

Becky's eyes widened, and her brain couldn't process what was more important first. That she was flirting with the woman who quite literally held her life in her hands or the fact that Sasha was about to have some change to her life sentence without her permission  _ or _ that Sasha was looking at her like  _ that.  _ Becky wasn't sure how she wanted to decipher that look or if she even could.

“Yeah, sure. We'll see how long you can hang with The Boss. I'm not an easy woman to please. Keep that in mind, alright?”

“I've escaped death twice with ya so far...I like my chances.”

“Third time is the charm.” Sasha moved past Becky, their shoulders brushing gently, “And don't test that theory too much with me...this is still your training day.”

Before Sasha could completely walk away from her, Becky reached out and gently grabbed Sasha's upper arm, barely managing not to let go when she felt the muscle beneath Sasha's blemish free skin tense. Becky looked down at Sasha who was staring straight ahead but Becky knew that she had the woman's full attention, “No matter how this turns out for me, lass...I just wanna let ya know how grateful I am.”

Given how close they were, Becky was able to see Sasha's throat working as she swallowed before the shorter woman met Becky's gaze. “Meet me outside when you're ready.” Still holding Becky's gaze, Sasha reached up and removed her hand from her arm and walked away towards the exit. For a moment, it looked as if Sasha were about to say something to Becky that was opposite of what she actually said. Becky sighed and turned her attention back to the guns sitting on the table when Sasha was out of sight, and smiled. She'd won and managed to impress Sasha at the same time, proving that she could be useful.

Becky had an inkling that was where her surge of confidence was coming from but she prayed that she got more of it for the rest of the day. Becky was still finding it difficult to get a good read on the blue haired woman though it didn't bother her as much as it should have.

“One point for the Irish ass kicker.” Becky rapped her knuckles against the table and followed Sasha out of the gun range.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are my own. The amount of Team Bae content was too much for one chapter, so I broke it down into 3 parts...and who knows, we might get a thirsty Sasha for once.
> 
> -Sith


	13. Trouble on The Horizon (Interlude)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own anything WWE or GTA related.

* * *

**_Somewhere in the warehouse district…_ **

“Alright ladies and gentlemen, let’s get down to business because we all know why we’re here.” Announced the tall blonde woman standing next to the white board with her back ramrod straight wearing functional clothing that consisted of khaki pants, a black collared shirt and combat boots.

She stood at the head of the round table that sat five other people dressed differently, but they all had one thing in common. They looked as if they had just come off the streets.

“This.” She said with her thick southern accent, pointing to the network of notes and pictures that had been taped up on the large whiteboard, “The streets of Los Santos have been terrorized long enough with the likes of these people who cannot follow the law. For the past six months, we've been on this...and now we finally got a breakthrough. I know it’s small, but it’s keeping our mission funded.”

Agent Evans pointed to the picture under the label  _ The Boss _ , a picture that showed a blue haired woman talking with another woman with blonde hair, “This woman here? She’s The Boss we’ve been looking for.”

“It doesn’t matter what she looks like,” one of the FIB Agents, Shayna, pointed out with a frown, “We can’t even find this chick in the system! No name, no social security, no shit,” Shayna scoffed, shaking her head slowly, “We found a ghost, cool yay whatever, but we can’t prosecute one. We’ll be chasing our tails with this woman if we can’t actually prove who the fuck she is!”

“If she’s smart enough to scrub herself off the internet, and her crew, we’re in for some serious trouble,” Finn said, speaking for the first time among his team, “The Boss runs a crew full of thieves, murderers and street racers wanted in every other goddamn state. They can scrub their identities from the internet, but they can't change their faces. All we need to do is catch one, and we can blow this wide open.”

“Not only that, but who’s that other woman? Is she part of the crew? Another ghost?” Agent Lashley asked, still staring intently at the photo on the board as if he were trying to burn it into his memory.

“No, that woman is Charlotte Flair, CEO of Fiskhein, it's a private financial company. No one overly important,” Lacey’s partner, Tommaso answered with a shrug, “She’s an accountant and she just manages money for a bunch of crooks we don’t give a fuck about, except  _ this  _ one.”

“So she’s our  _ only _ link to The Boss? Great.” Agent Rousey asked, clearly not liking the odds stacked against them, but she was more of a pessimist than all of them combined, including her street partner Shayna. “We can't even find a DNA print and  _ this  _ is our big break? Unbelievable.”

Lacey sighed heavily, and nodded reluctantly, “If we want the mastermind behind all these killings and heists, then we have to go through The Boss...because word on the street is that she’s fairly close with The Queen. And that’s who is  _ really _ calling the shots. And if we take out The Boss…”

“We’ll flush out The Queen, whoever they are.” Bobby said, nodding slowly as if it were coming together, “And in order to do that...we gotta go through this accountant. Could it be a dead end? Sure. But it's all we have left.”

Tommaso shrugged, “Maybe, maybe not...we’ll let you know the details later but for now...we’ll sit on her.”

“What’s her background like?”

Lacey shrugged, “Rich. Never had to lift a finger in her life, she had a younger sister that died when they were younger in some biking accident. The woman is clean, she just keeps questionable company.”

Ronda rolled her eyes, “Then she can’t be that clean. No one living in LS is squeaky clean. No one. I bet I can find a crackhead cleaner than her.”

Tommaso looked between his partner and Ronda, and leaned forward in his chair, “You got something on your mind, Rousey? If so, we’re listening.”

“How did The Boss even know to come to this woman, let alone trust her with her money? Where’s the connect?”

“Fair point,” Bobby agreed, he didn't always get along with his fellow Agent but she was making some valid points, “Every single client Flair has is a crook, none of them legit. So  _ how  _ does this woman get her client list then?”

“Chances that she's managing Queenie's money too?” Shayna scoffed, stuffing her phone in her pocket.

“Well, I guess we won’t be knowing that until we go pay Ms. Flair a little visit and lean on her, see if she cracks. Ciampa and I will go, the rest of you see what else you can dig up on the streets. Keep your ears close to the ground and eyes open. Got it?”

* * *

Charlotte quietly hung up the phone with her...with her...well, with Trish. Charlotte truly did not know what else to call the woman and she certainly wasn't ready to call her 'mom'. Charlotte was positive that she'd never be ready to call the other woman that, not after all these years. Charlotte couldn't even bring herself to call her 'Aunt' anymore, so she just settled on Trish. Not that Trish minded, as if she had an actual choice—but Charlotte was betting that Trish was thankful that at least one of her daughters was still talking to her.

Charlotte wouldn't speak for Sasha, not on this, but she did reassure Trish that Sasha was fine...and still living with her and eating all of her damn food like she paid any of the grocery bills. Hell, Sasha was out doing who knows what in one of her personal cars.

Charlotte glanced towards her bar, desperately wanting to get up to pour herself a healthy dose of whiskey and grab a pack of skittles but it was too early in the day for that and she had a few clients she had to meet for lunch later today. She and Sasha knew that their family was messed up, but not on this level and neither of them still had the full story. But it wasn't as if Sasha were giving anyone an opportunity to tell either of them, and Charlotte wasn't sure if she really wanted to know how and why their father got his wife's sister knocked up.  _ Twice. _

Sasha wasn't even acknowledging that the situation even existed and that itself was never a good thing but Charlotte wasn't sure about her own exact thoughts and feelings on it—not until she got both sides of the story, and she was even in less in a mood to talk to Ric than she was to talk to Trish.

“Fuck my life...” Charlotte got up anyway to fix her drink and snagged a bag of skittles anyway. Just as she settled back into her desk chair in attempts to get a little more done, she could hear some commotion outside of her office. Charlotte frowned, “What the hell?”

Just as she said that, the door to her office was pushed open as two people walked into her office as if they had rights to and Naomi was on their heels, looking both nervous and very much annoyed.

“Ms. Flair, I'm so sorry, they wouldn't listen when I told them you were busy and weren't taking any visitors.”

“Oh sweetheart, this is a visit your boss wouldn't want to miss trust me. Now run along now, grown ups are about to have a little talk.”

Charlotte eyed the tall blonde with the curious southern accent wearing the slacks, and plain button up shirt, and sipped her whiskey calmly.

“And just who the hell are you two supposed to be?”

“Oh,” the woman chuckled dryly and tapped the badge sitting around her neck, “I didn't realize that you couldn't see, Ms. Flair. But yes, of course how rude of us. FIB Agent Lacey Evans and this is my partner, Agent Ciampa. You don't know us very well, but we know all about you.”

“Is that right...” Charlotte clicked her tongue, amused and she nodded in Naomi's direction, “It's alright, Naomi. Redirect my calls until further notice.”

Naomi gave the two FIB Agents a distrusting side eye before she backed out of Charlotte's office and gently closed the glass door behind her. Charlotte watched as the two FIB Agents came further into her office and invited themselves to take a seat in the two chairs in front of her desk. It was clearly some kind of power tactic, them barging into her office...taking liberties that were not offered...but it wasn't working. Charlotte was well versed with this game already. She's perfected it really. Hell, she grew up with Sasha...she didn't have a choice but to know the game, Charlotte had to stay a step ahead of everyone, including her spawn of a sister.

“I feel like I'm under arrest but nothing is happening.”

Agent Ciampa scoffed, his impressive, if not a bit wild, beard moving a little, “Drop the innocent act, Flair. No one is buying it anymore, you've had your fun now it's time to pay back what you owe to society.”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow at the man, thinking of many different and creative ways to step on him, “Meaning?”

“This.” Agent Evans held up her phone and Charlotte saw that it was a picture of her and Sasha, it was a lot of photos with her and Sasha actually but Charlotte wasn't exactly too bothered with these pictures. They didn't prove anything, nothing at all. “For a very long time now, Flair, you've been running this front of an accounting company safe keeping money for criminals. And we've let you get away with it...you weren't on our radar, but now? Now you are, sweetheart, and unless you want to lose this nice fancy office of yours and land in a jail cell. You'll listen, and listen very carefully.”

“I don't know what's so harmful about a photo with me and my client, but please...carry on. The longer you sit here in my office uninvited harassing me, the bigger the lawsuit I will be filing against your office.” Charlotte sipped her whiskey, fighting back a smirk.

“Your client is the biggest criminal in this city and you're the only link we have to her.”

“How do you even know that she's the one you're looking for?”

Tommaso snorted and Lacey smirked a little, “We asked around, and well...blue hair is hard to forget.”

_ Fucking hell.  _ “I have nothing to do with any of that. I manage their money, not their lives.”

“Flair, we don't give a shit about this office of yours. We just care about your association with The Boss.” Agent Evans said, eyes narrowing while her partner remained quiet and observant next to her.

“The who? I don't know her by that name...I barely know her at all.”

“You're a horrible liar, Flair.” Agent Ciampa groused, “You're tellin' us, that you don't know shit about any of your 'clients' or where their money comes from? You watch the news don't you? This woman is a murder, a thief and probably a lot more. She's highly dangerous, and you're the only one to get this goddamn close to her and be alive to tell it.”

“I can't help you, Agent, I'm sorry. It goes against the code of conduct.”

“Your code of conduct? It won't save you. Not from her, or from us.” Agent Evans hummed, pressing her lips together for a moment in thought, “You have her money, which means you have her. And...you have the chance to do the right thing here...because I guarantee you that once she's finished with you, Ms. Flair, she'll kill you.”

Charlotte's poker face cracked slightly as she stared down into her whiskey and both of the Agents noticed and shared a glance, subtly nodding to one another. Tommaso leaned forward and caught Charlotte's gaze, “Ms. Flair, we wouldn't be here if it wasn't important...this woman is dangerous, and her associates are even more dangerous. They  _ will  _ kill you and anything you've ever loved. We've seen it happen too many times...but you can help us not only save future victims but bring justice for the ones in the past.”

Lacey studied Charlotte's features carefully, watching the wheels turning in her head while her partner spoke to the woman in a calm manner that she usually didn't hear from him, he was usually such a grouch but Lacey saw that this tactic was working. Charlotte was a woman who worked with dangerous people and Lacey could appreciate the woman's guarded attitude towards them, but she appreciated her clear common sense even more as she considered Tommaso's statement.

“I...” Charlotte cleared her throat, and drank a little more of her whiskey, “She doesn't talk to me much. And I can't give you anything without a warrant.”

Lacey nodded pulling something out of her pocket and slid it across Charlotte's desk, “Then we'll be back with that warrant. My number is on that card, don't hesitate to use it.”

Charlotte glanced down at it and nodded, though she remained quiet as the two Agents thanked her for her time and Charlotte called to them just as they reached the door. Charlotte set her glass aside and came around her desk, “If I do this...how can you guarantee my safety and anonymity?”

“Trust in the justice system, Ms. Flair, we'll keep you safe when we take down The Boss.”

Charlotte still didn't look convinced with Tommaso's reassurance and shook her head, “I'll help you, but I'm not testifying in court.”

Lacey raised an eyebrow at the audacity of the woman telling them what she was and wasn't going to do in the face of justice, but it wouldn't have been the first time Lacey has ever dealt with someone like this. “Don't worry you won't have to...we have no intentions of taking this woman to court. Prison is too good for the likes of her. We'll be in touch, thank you for your time.”

Charlotte felt her blood run cold as the two Agents left her office, and she remained rooted to the spot until she was positive that enough time passed for the Agents to get on the elevator and away from her office. Charlotte stormed out of her office and Naomi looked up at her with worried eyes.

“What was that?”

“A mistake.” Charlotte growled, eyes still glaring holes at the now closed elevator doors, “Those two will be back soon.”

Naomi swallowed nervously as she watched her face grow redder in the face, and it was rare for Naomi to see Charlotte lose her cool so quickly before, not even Sasha could get Charlotte this upset—and that was saying a lot. “What do I need to do? Should I call Sasha?”

“I...” Charlotte nearly said yes, but she knew that would be a bad idea right now—and that was something that Charlotte should have never been worried about, “No. I'm stepping out for the day, and please call Asuka. Inform her that I am on my way. Forward all emails and calls to my cell, and go home.”

“I told that idiot to leave her hair alone! Shit.” Charlotte went back into her office as Naomi went to work. They'd gotten too cocky and too comfortable and they slipped but it was an easy fix. They would have no choice but to make it one.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a brief plot building chapter. Team Bae will continue next. All mistakes are my own.
> 
> -Sith


	14. Training Day Pt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own anything GTA or WWE related.

* * *

Sasha pulled into the parking lot of Los Santos' biggest shopping strip, and probably the most expensive one in the city where celebrities and other rich elites loved to spend a chunk of their money to play their part in Los Santos image, to blend in with the LS scene and stand out at the same time. Becky had never seen so many well trimmed and picture perfect palm trees—perfectly spaced out between the streets. There was no liter, not even a receipt could be found on the ground because it was so clean and crisp.

As Sasha parallel parked her car between a Porsche and a decked out SUV, Becky was busy counting the dollar signs that were just floating all around. Becky already felt inferior when she was anywhere near Sasha, or riding in any of her expensive luxurious cars—but now? Looking at these men and women that were walking along the broad sidewalks, almost all of them looking like models? Becky felt as if she didn't belong on this side of town and—

“Stop doing that.”

Becky snapped out of her thoughts and turned away from the window to look at Sasha who turned off her car, “What? Stop doin' what?”

“Looking at these people like they're something to be admired. They're as manufactured as this car we're sitting in and these people have been more used than a dollar bill. There's absolutely nothing to be admired...they've spent their whole lives and probably half of their trust funds to look like the American standard. Everything about them is superficial at best.”

“So...why are we here?”

Sasha rolled her eyes, “Well, I was talking about them as people, but the fashion aspect is very much real depending on how you look at it. Even if you just wanna wear jeans, vans and a shirt for the rest of your life.”

Becky shrugged, shrugging off her seat belt, “Well...I think I'd look good in a suit too.”

Sasha laughed though she was more intrigued and confused than she was amused by Becky's comment, but the more Sasha thought about it the more she was able to visualize Becky in a two thousand dollar three piece suit with a tie...or maybe a nice bow. Becky had a strong jawline to pull off a bold look and her broad shoulders would fill out the suit nicely.

Sasha gave Becky a slow once over and hummed appreciatively,  _ Damn...she can aim and probably wear a suit better than most of the men modeling them. _

“Sasha?”

Sasha blinked, cocking her head to the side not realizing that she spaced out in her own head and was staring at Becky. Sasha cleared her throat, covering her slight embarrassment with a charming smile, “Okay, so...jeans and a shirt, suit and tie...what else?”

Becky shrugged, still wanting to know why Sasha had been staring intently at her a few seconds ago but Becky didn't want to press the issue, “Uh...just no dresses?”

“No dresses,” Sasha repeated and nodded, “I can work with that. Come on, these clothes aren't gonna buy themselves.”

* * *

Walking into Vinewood shopping center was a lot more relaxing than Becky was expecting it to be. Somehow now that they were inside of the strip, the sun disappeared and there was nothing but shade above them—protecting them from the heat of the LS sun. No one paid any mind to her or Sasha as they walked further into the heart of the shopping plaza, no more than just a lingering glance. Becky wasn't sure if it was because of Sasha's bold blue hair or just because Becky was absolutely sure she was gawking. It could've been both but Becky found herself not even caring because Sasha looped her arm with hers and kept Becky close.

“Suit and tie first, or t-shirts and vans?”

“Vans and shirts.” Becky answered immediately, Sasha didn't know it yet...but Becky planned on walking out of this plaza wearing a suit, so that may as well have been the last store they visit last since she was given a choice.

Sasha nodded and steered them in that direction, but she was going slow enough so that she wasn't practically dragging Becky behind her and giving the redhead enough time to take everything in. It reminded Sasha of her first time arriving in Los Santos with Charlotte once she made enough money to even feel remotely relevant in a place like this. That was a long time ago as Sasha has long since conquered this city but she'd never forget the exact feeling that Becky was experiencing.

“How'd you get into all of this?”

Sasha was brought out of her own trip down memory lane and looked at Becky with a raised eyebrow, “All of what?”

“Just...” Becky shrugged, stuffing her hands in her pocket and ultimately bringing Sasha closer to her, “Just  _ this.  _ This whole lifestyle? The racin', the fashion...the...”

“Killing?”

“ _ Crime.” _

Sasha's smirking turned into a momentary dark chuckle, “The same reason that you did...you know just as well as I do that living in this city is the end of the road if you have no ambition, no plan...no connections or money. Crime, hooking, and more crime is the only way that you can actually survive here.”

“That's true for the rest of us, but not for you.”

“Oh? Telling me my own life story now, are we?”

Becky blushed and nearly backpedaled but Sasha's teasing smirk informed Becky that her immediate health wasn't on the line—yet, “No, but...listen don't kill me, but I come from a poor Irish family, yeah? If I even had a quarter of the money that ya got—I would still be kinda cautious ya know? Budgets and all that shit? But you? I just notice how ya are with ya money and somethin' tells me that you're used to it, this ain't nothin' new to ya 'cause you grew up with it. Just...your methods of gettin' all this money are different than normal.”

“And you got all of that by watching me swipe my card?”

“That and ya attitude. Am I wrong?”

Sasha considered her next response—she didn't particularly appreciate being analyzed and having the results read back to her, especially if the other person is correct because it meant that Sasha had made a mistake. It meant that she has made many mistakes—enough for someone as green as Becky to catch on. And if Becky caught on...what could a professional do? Sasha has killed people for a lot less than that.

Sasha hadn't realized that she'd grown quiet longer than she thought and Becky caught the crease between Sasha's eyebrows before the shorter woman could clear it away. But before Becky could take back half the damage she probably caused, Sasha was speaking.

“Let's just say...that I am just too fast to live the blue collar life. We may not come from the same background Becky, but I can guarantee you that it's not greener on the other side.”

“I wouldn't know,” Becky shrugged, face still red, “I didn't mean anythin' by it, y'know?”

Sasha pulled away from Becky, sighing deeply and sporting a tight smile, “Becky. A word of advice? Know your enemy  _ quietly.  _ And you just might live longer.”

Becky blinked and stared after Sasha as the other woman walked into the clothing store and she laughed softly, mostly to herself. And mostly because every time that she and Sasha were together—Sasha was always putting a threat on her life. Becky followed Sasha into the store and it was practically empty making it easier to spot Sasha among the sea of clothing brands that Becky could never remember or even recognize to save her life.

The Irishwoman approached Sasha from behind though she was careful—her past experiences from her childhood taught her at an early age that it was never safe to sneak up on someone. Though the slight tilt of Sasha's head told Becky that the other woman was quite aware of her presence.

“Ya know, if ya keep threatening my life like this...I might just think ya bluffin'.”

Sasha turned slightly, eyeing Becky curiously before laughing outright. The blue haired woman tossed aside the jeans she was examining so that she could fully face Becky though she didn't say a word as she looked up at her, and Becky felt as if she were trapped in the gaze of a predator.

“Are you a masochist by chance, Becky?”

“Isn't everyone who works for you?”

The corner of Sasha's lips twitched, “You don't work for me yet.”

“Then what is all of this? A joke?”

“You're still in training, baby,” Sasha was full on smirking now, “When you work for me, officially? You'll know.”

“How though?”

“Trust me, you will.”

* * *

_ An hour and a half later... _

Becky and Sasha were back in the plaza, walking towards a different shop— for something far more expensive than some jeans, shirts and vans. Though Becky couldn't believe that everything she purchased in that store (via Sasha, of course) cost well over twelve thousand dollars. Becky knew Los Santos could be pricey but that was ridiculous. When the cashier ran their total, she balked at the daunting number but Sasha hardly flinched when she handed over her black card without a care in the world.

She even paid to have the clothing delivered to Becky's apartment later this evening when she would be home to receive them. Twelve thousand dollars...Becky couldn't imagine. That kind of money would take her more than ten months to save up if she were working two jobs at least.

The conversation flowed between the two women easily—it was light and flirtatious, and for Becky it was fun. It was fun seeing how the other half of Los Santos got to live, even if it wasn't exactly her own money that was being spent. Becky would've never found herself in this maze of stores on her own. A distance away, near a water fountain she saw two kids running around and laughing while their parents stood in the background taking pictures.

They looked like tourists because no one in LS could ever be that damn happy, not genuinely, but it made Becky smile anyway.

“Ya know, I've always wondered what it was like...havin' a sibling or somethin'. Would've been nice, I guess, y'know?”

Sasha glanced over towards where Becky's attention gravitated and just rolled her eyes, waving away the scene like it was a fly that was bothering her, “Overrated.”

Becky raised an eyebrow, instantly curious, “Know by experience?”

Sasha was silent, contemplating her next answer carefully, “Sure...I had a sister.”

“ _...had?” _

Sasha smiled up at Becky and gestured at something behind her that Becky hadn't noticed previously, “We're here. Suit and tie, just like you asked.”

Becky's mouth was working but nothing was coming out but hot air. She had so many questions and she wasn't getting any sort of answers. Sasha was a whirlwind of mysteries and Becky couldn't keep up with any one of them, and she suspected that she never will. Each time she discovered something new about the other woman, it was yanked away before Becky got a chance to pull on the string. It was both frustrating and fascinating.

Becky watched helplessly as Sasha walked away from her into the store made purely from gold and dark granite material—it looked like money, smelled like money and Becky was willing bet that if she licked the floor that it would also taste like money. And not for the first time today, Becky felt overwhelmed and way in over her head.

“Alright Lynch...time to put up or shut up.”

* * *

For every suit that Becky tried on, the shop attendants nearly set them aside along with the shoes that were picked out and Becky couldn't even fathom how much money she was racking up with every bit of clothing that she gawked at while modeling them in the full length mirror that was provided in the changing room. The changing room that came stocked with a snack bar and a sofa along with a small plasma TV.

The threads that Becky was trying on felt silkier and was far more fancier than anything she's ever tried on in her life. After the awkward first half of being measured the moment she stepped into the store, Becky was like a kid in a candy store. She had no idea what she expected when shopping for a suit, but it wasn't this. She didn't expect that she'd look this good, she expected something less than impressive considering that it was  _ her. _

But what stared back at her in the mirror was someone else entirely. Becky was looking at someone that didn't exist in real life, just in her dreams. Becky turned in the mirror slightly and smirked, dark gray was her color.

“Yeah,” Becky chuckled, smoothing out her tie and fixing the silver clip so that it was a little more centered. This was the suit she was wearing out of this fancy place. This was the Becky Lynch that she wanted to be, that she  _ needed  _ to be. “Yeah.”

* * *

Sasha, who'd been sitting out in the lounge area on her phone, was teetering between candy crush and doing actual work like Charlotte asked her to. Though it was more like Sasha was investing in a few more stocks that weren't worth buying... _ yet.  _ Unless of course a few of their CEO's were to suddenly die—however that was a thought for another day.

Sasha heard her coming and set her phone aside as she looked up, a slick comment ready to be fired off but whatever Sasha  _ thought  _ she was going to say died right in her throat and she nearly choked on it. And it was all that Sasha could do to appear normal and not make it so obvious that she was choking on her own oxygen.

The Becky that walked in with her two hours ago was not the same woman that was walking towards her now. Sasha rose from her seat on the sofa and met Becky half way, her eyes roaming the entire time. Taking in the way the fitted suit hugged Becky's figure, complimenting her broad shoulders and highlighting her strong jaw—and Sasha never really noticed how toned Becky's legs were until now. Just watching the Irishwoman walk towards her with those fitted tweed pants on her—Sasha saw more than she might've with the old clothes Becky wore.

Sasha saw it before but now it was being thrown in her face, but Becky Lynch was one handsome bitch.

“Well, what do ya think then?”

Sasha raised an eyebrow, wondering if it was just her imagination or if Becky's accent had more drip than it did previously, “You look like you should be the one paying for all of this and not me.”

Becky scoffed, rolling her eyes slightly and Sasha's other eyebrow joined it's partner high on her forehead—it seemed that looking damn good in a suit was giving Becky a massive confidence boost. “Gimme a lil' time, Sasha, and maybe I'll be the one wooin' ya through the city.”

“Woo me huh? That all you wanna do, Lynch?  _ Woo me?” _

“Yeah, plus...”Becky looked Sasha up and down boldly, “I'm starving.”

Sasha laughed out right, flipping her long blue hair over her shoulder, “Not a chance in hell, Lynch.”

“Good to know, but,” it was Becky's turn to smirk, “I meant the lunch ya owe me, 'member?”

The two women stood less than ten feet apart staring each other down, and Becky struggled to hold her poker face in the face of a true killer and crime Lord...she had no idea where her surge of confidence came from but Becky truly hoped that she hadn't just placed the final nail on her coffin by playing by the rules of the game that Sasha herself set. It wouldn't have been the first time something like this backfired right in her face but those consequences never came with a bullet between the eyes.

When Sasha smiled and held up her jet black titanium card without breaking eye contact, Becky didn't flinch but her pulse quickened embarrassingly and there was a cold sweat on the back of her neck when the card slid easily from Sasha's manicured fingers when Becky took it. Sasha was still smiling as she tracked Becky across the store, her jaw clenched gently with amusement. Becky was learning but she still had so much to learn, especially with her.

Sasha chuckled to herself as she sank back down onto the sofa and crossed her legs at the knee, still watching Becky like the true predator that she was. Sasha truly hoped that Becky ate something light at lunch...she'd hate to have wasted all of that money just for the Irishwoman to throw it back up later.

“Alright Lynch...” Sasha said softly, eyes twinkling with devilment as she wiggled her fingers at Becky when the woman looked back over her shoulder at her, “I hope you're ready for this,  _ love,  _ because you're mine until the end.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are my own, thanks!
> 
> -Sith


	15. Clean Up I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own anything WWE or GTA related.

* * *

Charlotte was stuck in LS traffic but of course she was, it was Los Santos and what would this city be without its bumper to bumper traffic where half of the cities drivers didn't even have a license in the first place. Charlotte sighed heavily, checking her Rolex for the thousandth time within thirty minutes. She'd gotten multiple emails from her bank that she shared with her wild sister—her same sister that wasn't supposed to be spending a shit ton of money and had the FIB on her ass. The FIB were far closer than either of them anticipated and that scared the shit out of Charlotte. Enough that she ignored the fact that Sasha dropped two hundred grand and some change downtown at various shopping centers (Charlotte would kick her ass for that later).

Charlotte wasn't fearful of getting caught—she was more afraid of losing the only person on this cesspool of a planet that she gave a damn about. Even if her sister drove her absolutely batshit insane, Charlotte couldn't lose her...she wouldn't. Charlotte looked down at her phone sitting in her cup holder, her hand twitching before she could stop it. 

She wanted to call Sasha to warn her about the FIB catching her scent, to tell her to get underground or to disappear for a while—maybe to Vice City but Charlotte had no idea how far their surveillance went. She didn't want them realizing that Sasha was tipped off. As far as Charlotte was concerned it would come raining back on her, and neither of them needed that. They were really chasing her after all, even if they didn't know that it was her they were looking for.

It gave Charlotte goosebumps knowing that she was the Crime Lord that they were looking for and they were so close and yet  _ miles  _ away. It was an exhilarating feeling and Charlotte wasn't sure if that actually scared her a little or made her feel more invincible than she already felt.

“Thinking like that will get you killed, Flair, stop it.” Charlotte reached for the radio and tried to find something good but it was just the news spewing their usual bullshit about the crime in the city and how the police are doing such a great job cleaning up their streets. “Bullshit.”

The radio host was abruptly cut off by the ringing of Charlotte's phone which was connected to her car and scaring the shit out of her. The FIB visit threw Charlotte off her game today and she was well aware of the fact as well as annoyed, and when she realized who was calling her exactly she was even more annoyed because now couldn't have been a worse time. The blonde nearly let the call go straight to voicemail but a sudden idea popped up that had her immediately answering the call.

“Hello?”

“ _ Hi, Charlotte. Um, listen...I know we spoke earlier but there's been something on my mind. It's been bothering me for a while, and I can't let it fester anymore.” _

“What do you mean?” Charlotte knew exactly what she was talking about but she was petty enough to make people spell shit out for her just because she could—that and she was sitting in traffic trying to ignore her growing anxiety.

There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line and a pause that almost went on too long to be considered appropriate,  _ “I'm talking about Sasha.” _

“Ah, yeah, she seems to be a very hot topic today.”

“ _ I'm sorry?” _

Charlotte shook her head, knowing that she couldn't be seen, “Nothing, she's been killing it with the clients today is all...so, about Sasha then?”

“ _ Right...I know that you know she's been avoiding my calls at all costs and I can't exactly afford to fly all the way back across the country again for another week. I was....”  _ another sigh, deeper this time...and sadder,  _ “Has she said anything to you at all? About any of this?” _

Charlotte licked her suddenly dry lips, torn being lying to spare Trish's feelings the hard reality of how distant Sasha could make herself be...or soften the blow. “She hasn't, she's been throwing herself into work and I'm currently working on an intervention before she drops dead somewhere,” Charlotte cringed on how true that reality was about to become if she didn't act fast, “But can you blame her? All those years you could've told us, Trish...you—”

“ _ I didn't have a choice!” _

“There is always a choice!” Charlotte snapped, her frustrations with today's transgressions and this family drama leaking through her carefully crafted mask, “You sat on it for  _ years!  _ Not once did you actually try!”

“ _ Your father—” _

“Is a self righteous cocksucker with money, yes, but Sasha and I would've protected you from whatever dirt he had on you because was it so damn important that you'd abandon not one but  _ both  _ of your daughters? Huh, Trish? Is it?”

The older woman was quiet for a very long time and Charlotte had to check to make sure that she hadn't been hung up on and she quickly wiped away the lone treacherous tear that had the audacity to escape her tear ducts. It was clear that Trish was struggling to find something to say but Charlotte didn't care, she didn't want to hear it—but she knew one person that would. She quickly muted the call so she could sniffle and cough a little before she spoke again.

“Sasha has been working like a workhorse lately and she's wearing herself out,” Charlotte started carefully, still trying to figure out if her last minute harebrained plan was worth the trouble—or if Sasha would actually go for it, “She needs a vacation...and quite frankly, you two need to work this out as well. It's not good for her mental health...I'll see if I can get her to Vice City within a week.”

“ _ What about you? You're my daughter too, Charlotte. You do remember that part, don't you?” _

“Be that as it may, I don't care about this as much as she does.”

“ _ I see...that's fair. I...I guess I shouldn't have expected anything less. I'm just grateful that you're still willing to speak to me at all, Charlotte.” _

“I can get her to Vice City, but the rest will be on you. I'll text you when it's settled. Was there anything else?” Charlotte didn't mention that Sasha wouldn't be going to Vice City alone—she couldn't have her sister and partner running around in someone else's territory without protection. At least one or two bodyguards would be going...perhaps Bianca and Matt—Randy too.  _ Maybe _ . But that was details she'd work out later.

“ _ I...no, I just wish things could've been different...” _

“Yeah...me too.” Charlotte stared down at her phone for a moment, mouth opening to say something else but she thought better of it and pressed the red button with a heavy heart, however she quickly snuffed that feeling out and focused on driving. She still had work to do.

* * *

_ Half an hour later... _

Charlotte didn't even get a chance to knock on the damn door before it was swung open quite wildly and it hit the wall with a loud thud though it didn't bounce back because the owner of the loft was leaning against it, staring at her with a smug little smirk that immediately grated on her nerves. And it didn't help that the woman's hair color was half blue and half pink, bright as the goddamn sun.

“What the fuck is with you people and these goddamn colors?” Charlotte mumbled, brushing past the woman into her loft, hanging up her jacket on the coat rack. “I'm assuming you know why I'm here?”

“Eh.” was the only answer she got over the sound of a dozen locks being slid back into place like clockwork, “More or less, tell me anyway.”

Charlotte sat down on the sofa crossing her legs at the knee, glaring at the woman now sitting in the chair, “I don't have time to play with you today, Asuka. Fix it.”

Asuka said something in her native tongue and snorted causing Charlotte's eye to twitch—she wasn't so good with languages like her sister, which is why she usually always brought her along with these visits but today has proven to be determined about sending Charlotte into an early grave.

“The FIB—”

“Yeah, was wondering when they'd visit you. Took them long enough.”

Charlotte felt a massive headache coming. She placed her other foot back on the floor, scooting forward, “Wait a minute, you knew?! You couldn't be bothered to pick up a damn phone? Asuka what the hell do I pay you for?!”

“You don't.” Asuka chuckled, clicking her tongue and wagging a finger at Charlotte, “I help with your jobs and get a cut. Big difference. Where's my fun friend? Not you, too boring...and tall.”

“Soon to be in a ditch right next to you.” Charlotte mumbled under her breath as she rose, the need to pace the room to great to ignore though she was able to resist the need to ask for a bottle of aspirin, “She's out doing whatever the fuck I tell her not to do, but that's not the problem! My problem is that the FIB seems to know more than I know, and that needs fixing!”

Asuka laughed, shaking her head as she pulled her laptop into her lap—it was custom made and ran like a gem though she didn't say too much else because her fingers were now flying across the keyboard at light speed. Charlotte continued to pace unable to find the will to sit down, there was just too much going on in her mind for that right now. Too many things were pulling her in different directions at the same time too close together which meant that Charlotte was out of control of something somewhere but not for long.

“Oh.”

“Oh? Oh what?” Charlotte stopped her pacing almost a little startled that Asuka said something, Charlotte was so far into her own head she nearly forgot about the other woman, “Well?”

“The FIB knows a lot, wow,” Asuka said, her eyes that were still glued to her screen widening, “This not good.”

“Fuck, are you sure? Oh my god.  _ Shit _ .” Charlotte's stomach clenched with fear and she couldn't get her phone out of her pocket fast enough to call her sister and she stopped when Asuka just started laughing hysterically waving her hand that wasn't holding her laptop secure.

“Oh my goodness, your face!” Asuka wheezed, face reddening, “I joke, they don't know shit.”

Charlotte glared at Asuka, she glared so hard her own eyeballs hurt, “I really...are you serious? I can't deal with your shit and her shit at the same time, just....” Charlotte pinched the bridge of her nose roughly, “Just tell me what the hell they know.”

Asuka snorted, shaking her colorful head, “Nothing, like I said. She does not exist on the internet, none of them do. Do you wish the same now?”

“I...no, no. I don't, I can't not exist right now...give me an itemized list, Asuka, no bullshit, what exactly brought the FIB to our door?”

Asuka shrugged, “Matter of time.”

“Asuka.”

“Nothing, I keep saying this. They have few pictures that link you both.”

“But not enough to reveal the truth?”

“If you are careful, they won't ever know.” Asuka winked, glancing at her screen for a moment, “What now?”

“Now...” Charlotte paused, pondering her next plan of action carefully, “I want you to create a fake identity for her....make some shit up, make it decent, I don't care.”

“Why not just kill them? Be done with it?”

“I can't kill them, not right now...it would be very bad for me and everyone else involved. It's too risky, none of us can afford to have the entire government coming down on our heads. How soon can you get this done?”

“Hmm, depends.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes for the thousandth time since arriving at Asuka's loft, “Depends on  _ what _ ?”

“How fast you pull your trigger.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Asuka grinned at Charlotte, saying something in her native tongue—too rapidly for Charlotte to catch, not that she could understand anyway. It made Charlotte regret not calling Sasha and making her meet her here in the first place. It was easier for Charlotte to deal with Asuka with Sasha around—those two were one in the same anyway. Absolutely annoying as hell.

“I do you favor, you return courtesy. Okay?”

Charlotte waved her away, “Fine, whatever, I'll have one of my shooters to handle it—”

“No, not them.  _ You.  _ The Queen! Back in action!” Asuka cackled lightly, tapping her toes on the wood floor, “Out of retirement!”

“I never retired.”

“No, but much too boring. May as well have. Here. Kill. Call me later.”

Charlotte's phone pinged in her pocket and she quickly retrieved it, seeing that she had a message from an unknown sender. She opened it with a heavy exhale, seeing a name and address along with a few points of destinations of where her target could be.

“Who is this?”

Asuka said something that Charlotte didn't understand and wiggled her fingers at the older woman, signaling for her that their meeting was now over. The muscles in Charlotte's jaw ticked as she put her phone away and stormed out of Asuka's apartment, snatching her jacket off of the coat rack on her way out nearly toppling the damn thing. The last thing Charlotte heard before the door slammed shut was Asuka yelling and laughing behind her. If the woman wasn't so damn good at what she did, and not a very old and loyal acquaintance, Charlotte would've dropped her in the ocean a very long time ago.

“The shit I do for my sister...” Charlotte growled in the elevator and she quickly dialed a familiar number and she double dog dared the receiver not to answer. The moment Charlotte heard the click on the sixth ring, she didn't bother allowing them to answer, “I don't care what you are doing, drop it and bring your ass home, we have a job to do, Boss. We're cleaning up your mess and I dare you to argue. See you soon.”

**_Click._ **

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are my own, as usual.
> 
> -Sith


	16. Clean Up II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own anything WWE or GTA related.

* * *

Charlotte was pacing the length of her living just in front of the foyer waiting for her sister. She'd long taken off her work attire and she was wearing a pair of boots, jeans and an all black long sleeve shirt over a form fitted bullet proof vest. She'd been waiting a little over thirty minutes for her sister and considering that she didn't have a clue as to what Sasha was getting up to prior to her calling—Charlotte was trying to remain calm but the longer she had to wait the more agitated she became.

Charlotte checked the time and she was about to blow another gasket when the elevator doors to her penthouse dinged and the elevator doors slid open, revealing her blue haired sister and some redhead in a suit that Charlotte has never seen before in her life—and if Charlotte wasn't pissed off before, she certainly was now.

Completely ignoring the unwelcome guest, Charlotte stormed towards her younger sister and grabbed Sasha by the upper arm, “I thought I told you to come alone!”

“Oi, keep ya hands off—”

Before Becky could even think about reaching out to touch Charlotte she caught an elbow right to the face and sprawled across the penthouse floor, with blood spurting out of her nose though she had sense enough to roll over onto her side to let it drip on the floor. She'd just gotten her suit less than an hour ago after all.

Meanwhile, Charlotte hauled Sasha into her home office down the hall, leaving the idiot redhead back in the foyer on the floor—she'd deal with that mystery later. Charlotte closed the door and made sure to lock it because she didn't want any unnecessary interruptions.

“Wanna tell me why you're being all Queenie on me right now and punching my bodyguards or are we gonna fight it out right here?” Sasha spat, snatching away from Charlotte and ignoring the way her sister's nails scratched the inside of her arm. Sasha moved across the room as she took off her jacket and tossed it aside.

Charlotte rolled her eyes and ran both of her hands through her messy blonde hair, “Your bodyguard sucks and no we are not going to fight, Sasha but we are going to talk.”

“Talk about what?” Sasha asked, shaking her head not really understanding what had her sister so pissed, “What did I do now? Was it the shopping trip? I'm sorry about that but—”

“It's not that,” Charlotte held up her hand, “Partially that, but not completely.”

“Okay, so what then?”

“The FIB paid me a visit today, Sasha.” Charlotte nodded at Sasha's shocked expression, “Yeah, and they were looking for you.”

“Me? Looking for me, why?”

“Why? I've already told you Sasha, we're cleaning up the mess that you've made. If you'd just listen to me the first time about your loud ass hair, the money, the racing, the everything Sasha!” Charlotte took a deep breath and counted backwards from ten, “I love you, Sasha, but goddamn it I wanna kill you sometimes.”

Sasha laughed, holding up her arms, “Then do it, I'm standing right here!”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Charlotte scoffed, leaning back against the door and shoving her hands in her pockets, shoulders slumped slightly, “The FIB know who you are alias wise, but they don't know too much of anything according to Asuka. They've only recently figured out how to identify you.”

“You went to go see Asuka? How is she?” Sasha asked, smiling slightly but it quickly fell against her sister's mild glare, “Right, how'd they figure out I'm The Boss? Or that we know each other? Do they suspect that we're—”

“No, no, they don't suspect at all, those idiots. They know I'm your money handler and kindly asked me to be their inside source.”

“You said no right?”

“I agreed.”

“Uh...” Sasha blinked, extremely confused and she went over to Charlotte's desk and sat in her chair slowly, “I'm confused here. Why would you tell them yes?!”

Charlotte came further into her home office and sat on her desk, fiddling with a pen, “If I told them no, Sasha, it would've been suspicious. I had to give them something, especially if we want to stay in the loop. Right now, I bought some time by demanding a warrant. I have Asuka making you another alias so that I can give to them. They're going to be chasing your tail for a while, and...and they're not looking for an arrest either. So please, stay ready and get a better bodyguard. What happened to Bianca?”

“She's still around, Becky is still learning the ropes but Bianca is teaching her.” Sasha lied right through her teeth, not wanting to just outright say that she and Bianca are a little rocky because she decided to have sex with her—a lot and feelings were caught. No, that would upset her sister. And Sasha didn't want Charlotte having a stroke before dinner. “So I have two...Bianca is just um, on another job.”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow but she didn't have the energy to question why her sister didn't send the rookie instead, but let it go, “The FIB are really looking for me. They want to cut the empire off at the head, and the head is the Queen.”

“So...what's the plan, Asuka makes me a fake alias then what?”

“Then you leave the city for two weeks, maybe three while the rest of us handle the clean up. We'll pick them off, but it will help if you weren't in the city so that reinforcements don't won't be called in their wake. A few car accidents here...a drowning there, perhaps an allergic reaction. Accidents happen.”

“You can't kill all of them.”

“No, but if I fill the right pockets...I can get them out of our city, and when it's done, I will bring you home myself, I promise.”

“I don't like the idea of running away, Char. It's weak. I'd rather do this myself. This one is on me, I slipped.”

Charlotte reached down and took one of her sister's hands and squeezed tightly, understanding all too well, “I know, but it's too much of a risk that I'm not willing to take, Sasha. Please just...let me do this, okay?”

“Our whole lives are a risk,” Sasha argued softly but nodded anyway, “Alright fine, I'll let you run point on this. Where am I gonna go for two weeks then?”

“Well,” Charlotte slid off of her desk, pacing again—this was the hard part, convincing Sasha to go to Vice City and see Trish, and maybe work their shit out. Or not. “We'll talk about that part later...right now, we actually have a job to do. Asuka needs some CEO out in the Paleto Bay area knocked off.”

“A CEO? In Paleto Bay? Seriously? What the hell is this CEO doing out in hillbilly county?”

“Cheating on his wife apparently, we can either leave now and maybe catch him with his pants down or intercept his transport back into the city. If we do that, it'll be a bit of a fight but nothing we can't handle.”

“Explains why you're dressed like that, I haven't seen you get your hands dirty in a while. It's about time you come out of retirement.”

Charlotte gave Sasha a dirty side eye, first Asuka now her sister.  _ Did everyone think that the Queen couldn't get down in the trenches anymore? Huh.  _ She had more to prove than she thought. “We're leaving in twenty, get rid of the redhead and meet me downstairs.”

Sasha thought about arguing that Becky was a damn good shot and could benefit from this but she thought better of it. Becky was still too green to be running with the two biggest and most wanted people on the East Coast. Sasha didn't want Becky choking on the trigger because she knew that Charlotte would put a bullet in her head faster than anyone could think for putting their lives at more risk.

“Okay.”  _ Maybe next time. _

* * *

The absolute last thing that either of the Flair sisters expected when they walked out of Charlotte's home office and back into the kitchen and living room area—was that Becky was waiting for Charlotte and tackled the tall blonde on sight. Causing both women to go crashing down onto the hard floor with a loud crash of a tangle of limbs and grunts. Sasha stared wide eyed for a split second, though Charlotte's split lip had her moving quickly and Sasha rushed Becky off of her sister, nearly tackling her in efforts to avoid stepping on a very pissed off Charlotte.

Sasha's instincts and acute knowledge of her sisters white hot rage had her quickly letting go of Becky and turning around just in time to catch Charlotte's wrist and push it away just as her sister pulled the trigger—and a vase shattered violently behind Becky followed by a picture falling off of the wall, destroying it.

The room was quiet for a while, Becky and Charlotte breathing hard and everyone was tense—coiled tight as springs. Sasha looked between Becky and her sister before she turned her back completely to her sister to look at Becky.

“Rain check on the rest of the day, Becky. Um, here, take the car home and unload. I'll call you in a day or two, alright?”

Becky caught the key fob that Sasha tossed her, mildly shocked that Sasha was just giving her the BMW to take home, knowing the sort of neighborhood that she lived in—but she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Though Becky was very reluctant to leave Sasha alone with the woman who just tried to murder her in...hell, Becky didn't even know who's place this was. The owner could've very well been dead in the freezer for all she knew. Becky looked down at the key fob in her hands, then back to Sasha who was staring at her with an unreadable look.

Becky looked down at Sasha's hand that was still holding onto the blonde's wrist, presumably to keep her from trying to shoot her again—but there was a feeling deep in the pits of Becky's stomach that hated the way it looked. They'd been having a great day before Sasha got a phone call halfway to their destination...the Irishwoman looked above Sasha and met the blonde's heated glare, taking in her blown pupils, bloodied lip and that slight smug smirk. It was as if she were reading Becky's mind and she was relishing in it. Becky hated it.

Looking back at Sasha, noting the slight pleading look she was now receiving—Becky finally relented and forced herself to relax...and tossed the fob back to Sasha. “I'm your bodyguard, remember? I go where you go.”

Sasha's grip on Charlotte's wrist tightened when she felt her sister's hand tighten on her gun, “Becky—”

“No, she's right...” Charlotte said, full on smirking now—looking down her nose at Becky over Sasha's head, “Let her come, she is your bodyguard after all.”

Sasha pressed her lips together, finally letting go of her sister's wrist as she turned to glare at her, and Charlotte's gaze shifted down to her, eyebrow raised, “I thought this was just you and I?”

“It is, but we'll need a look out and probably an extra shooter if we catch them on the road. So go get ready, you have ten minutes.” Charlotte looked back at Becky, who was still glaring at her like a pissed off bull, “ _ Becky... _ and I will wait for you in here.”

Sasha didn't say anything though she was very reluctant to leave her very much hostile sister and Becky alone together but she didn't have a choice, so she quickly snatched the gun from her sister and left the room before either of them could say another word.

Once Charlotte heard Sasha's bedroom door closed, she allowed the grin she's been restraining to break free just a little bit, “You're new, aren't you?”

Becky straightened her tie, clearing her throat, “Working for her? Yes.”

“No,” Charlotte's grin became a little more sharper, “You're  _ new. _ ”

Becky didn't say anything but the bobbing of her throat moving up and down told Charlotte that she hit the nail on the head—though by the way Becky ate her elbow earlier like a complete rookie, Charlotte already knew the answer to her own question anyway. Charlotte chuckled, shaking her head.

“One word of advice...keep your head down. Or not, I don't give a damn either way. What I do give a damn about? Is her...” Charlotte pointed down the hallway Sasha disappeared down and took half a step towards Becky, “If she dies... _ you die. _ ”

“Tonight?”

“Ever. And I promise...I'll personally make it nice and slow.”

“Done!” Sasha called, practically running back into the living room, dressed similarly to her sister with her hair now in a tight ponytail beneath a baseball cap and tossed something to Becky, who caught the heavy thing with a grunt, “Put that on in the car.”

“Any proper bodyguard would've had one on already.” Charlotte commented, taking her gun from Sasha's waist and putting it back behind her back. “Let's go. Boss, you're driving.”

“Duh, was there any question?” Sasha rolled her eyes, checking in with Becky one last time before turning around to leave into the shit storm they were no doubt about to get into—she could only pray that this ended quickly.

Becky began to follow Sasha but was quickly cut off when Charlotte cut in front of her, and Becky huffed, annoyed. She knew that she should've just gone home like Sasha told her too but this was the life that she wanted and Becky knew that she'd have to prove herself to these people and to Sasha. Hell, prove it to herself that she wasn't just a waste of space on this planet. This is what she wanted and she was now getting exactly that.

Back in the elevator, somehow Sasha ended up standing in front of them both, and Becky leaned in the corner of the elevator still holding the vest with both hands, and her gaze slid over to the blonde in the other corner. Not surprised to find her looking at her and smiling. Becky hated her.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are my own. As usual. Short chapter, lowkey boring. Next one will be more exciting...lots of sass, shooting and swearing.
> 
> 2 Belts Banks. All imma say. I may or may not have ran down my street screaming. 
> 
> -Sith

**Author's Note:**

> All mistakes are my own, I sincerly hope you peeps enjoyed the first chapter. 2nd chapter will be out later on, gotta finish editing and making sure that it's decent for y'all. Plus I have other stories to cater to! Thank you for taking the time to check this out!
> 
> -Sith


End file.
